Columbia  ?Hnitiergitp 

in  tfje  Citp  of  iSeto  ^oxk 


LIBRARY 


GIVEN"    BY 


:i.  c..Ui<.3t. 


EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 


EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 


BY 

GUGLIELMO  FERRERO 

Author  of  ''Greatness  and  Decline  of  Rome,* 
"Ancient  Rome  and  Modern  America,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

1918 


^4 


Copyright,  1918 
BT  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY,  iNa 


PREFACE 

When  the  war  broke  out  in  August,  19 14,  it  was  gener- 
ally supposed  that  it  would  be  on  much  the  same  scale  as 
the  various  struggles  for  the  balance  of  power  or  the  wars 
of  aggression  which  had  rent  Europe  asunder  since  the 
French  Revolution;  an  opinion  which  prevailed  so  long  as 
to  exercise  no  small  influence  on  the  conduct  of  the  war. 
It  is  only  indeed  comparatively  recently  that  governments 
and  peoples  alike  seem  to  have  realized  that  the  present 
conflict  is  more  far-reaching  and  more  complex  than  a 
repetition  of  even  the  Franco-Prussian  War  on  a  vaster 
scale. 

The  essays  collected  in  this  volume  were  all  written  to 
show  the  erroneousness  of  this  idea  and  to  prove  that  this 
struggle  is  not  merely  the  continuation  of  the  national  and 
political  wars  of  the  nineteenth  century,  but  rather  a  great 
crisis  in  what  is  commonly  called  western  civilization  —  a 
crisis  whose  development  will  be  far  more  extensive  than 
was  ever  contemplated  and  whose  consequences  will  far 
transcend  the  territorial  ambitions  of  the  various  bellig- 
erent states.  In  order  to  prove  this  assertion,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  trace  the  component  elements  of  this  crisis 
with  the  help  of  what  is  generally  known  as  the  compara- 
tive method,  studying  modern  civilization  in  the  light  of 
the  civilizations  of  ancient  times,  trying  by  this  means  to 
discover  their  strong  and  weak  points,  and  making  use  for 
this  purpose  of  the  comparative  studies  along  these  lines 
which  I  had  made  before  the  outbreak  of  war.^ 

1  Cf r.  Ferrero,  "  Ancient  Rome  and  Modern  America,"  Putnam. 
New  York.    "Between  the  Old  World  and  the  New."    Idem. 

V 


Tl 


PREFACE 


These  essential  elements  of  the  crisis  appear  to  me  to 
be  three  in  number.  The  first  is  of  a  military  order  —  i.  c., 
the  rivalry  between  the  Great  Powers  of  Europe  in  the 
matter  of  armaments  which  began  after  the  Franco-Prus- 
sian War,  when  for  the  first  time  in  history  the  greatest 
nations  of  the  world  based  their  military  policy  not  on  the 
greatest  possible  limitation  of  armaments,  as  had  hitherto 
been  the  case,  but  on  the  principle  of  the  indefinite  increase 
of  men  and  weapons. 

The  second  element  is  the  development  of  industry,  more 
especially  in  its  metallurgical  and  mechanical  branches. 
These  industries,  which  have  become  so  powerful  during 
the  last  century,  have  not  only  supplied  European  militarism 
with  the  means  of  indefinitely  increasing  their  armaments, 
but,  by  providing  incredibly  complicated,  rapid  and  power- 
ful weapons,  have  transformed  the  art  of  war  into  a  kind 
of  diabolical  instrument  of  extermination.  Until  the  nine- 
teenth century  armies  were  light,  easily  handled  swords 
with  which  duels  were  fought  between  states  according 
to  certain  recognized  rules  in  order  to  settle  their  disputes 
with  the  minimum  expenditure  of  blood  and  money.  In 
the  century  of  metallurgy  and  mechanics  they  have  become 
gigantic  machines  for  the  destruction  of  nations. 

The  third  element  is  of  a  moral  and  intellectual  nature: 
i.  e.,  that  unshakable  optimism,  that  blind  faith  in  the 
progress  and  strength  of  man,  that  unbridled  ambition  and 
covetousness  which  has  effaced  or  at  all  events  dimmed 
the  sense  of  limitation,  of  proportion,  of  the  humanly  possi- 
ble and  the  reasonable  in  the  w^hole  western  civilization,  in 
the  realms  of  philosophy,  religion,  art,  science,  politics, 
finance,  industry  and  commerce  alike.  Western  civiliza- 
tion was  on  the  way  to  thinking  itself  omnipotent.  This 
malady  had  attacked  all  the  nations  of  Europe  to  a  greater 


PREFACE 


TU 


or  less  extent,  but  its  ravages  were  greatest  in  Germany 
which  had  fallen  victim  to  that  megalomania,  that  insen- 
sate pride,  that  unbounded  ambition,  that  deterioration  in 
the  morals  of  the  masses  which  made  a  country,  which  for 
long  had  been  regarded  as  the  model  of  the  world,  become 
in  a  few  short  months  its  terror  and  detestation. 

These  three  elements  gave  birth  to  this  war  which 
knows  no  limits  of  time,  space,  destruction  of  life  and 
property  —  an  appalling  phenomenon  in  the  history  of  the 
world  —  a  war  which  in  its  turn  gave  birth  to  a  crisis  in 
the  whole  of  western  civilization,  owing  to  the  overwhelm- 
ing shock  to  its  political  and  moral  order. 


I  was  specially  pleased  that  an  English  translation  of 
'this  book  should  be  published  in  America,  because  the 
Americans  occupy  a  peculiar  position  which  makes  it  easier 
for  them  than  for  Europeans  to  follow  these  ideas.  Is 
not  the  United  States  the  living  proof  of  their  truth?  If 
the  European  war  were  the  last  and  greatest  of  the  political 
and  national  wars  of  the  Old  World,  it  would  not  be  easy 
to  understand  why  the  United  States  could  not  have  re- 
mained neutral  as  it  did  in  all  preceding  conflicts;  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  is  a  crisis  in  western  civilization,  it  is 
easy  enough  to  see  why  it  could  not  be  a  mere  looker  on, 
since  America  forms  part  of  that  civilization. 

The  Americans  are  not  only  in  a  position  to  understand 
this  universal  character  of  this  crisis,  but  are  also  better 
able  to  profit  by  this  truth  in  the  work  of  reconstruction 
w^hich  must  follow  the  present  cataclysm.  The  position 
of  America  in  relation  to  the  great  events  of  the  last  three 
years  differs  from  that  of  the  European  Powers  in  so  far 
as  only  two  of  the  elements  which  have  contributed  to  this 


viii  PREFACE 

crisis  are  present  in  America :  the  industrial  and  the  moral 
and  intellectual.  The  first  and  most  important  —  the  miH- 
tarism  which  impelled  Europe  to  the  unlimited  increase 
of  armaments  —  is  altogether  lacking. 

This  circumstance  has  had  and  will  have  various  conse- 
quences. The  fact  that  she  had  not  taken  part  in  the  rival- 
ries of  militarism  was  one  of  the  causes  which  both  obliged 
America  to  intervene  and  made  that  intervention  more  diffi- 
cult. It  forced  America  to  intervene  because  had  she  not 
done  so,  she  would  have  been  unable  to  create  a  great 
army,  and  had  she  not  created  this  army,  she  would  have 
found  herself  at  the  end  of  the  war  the  only  wealthy  na- 
tion in  the  world,  but  at  the  same  time  wholly  defenceless 
against  Europe,  which,  while  possessing  numberless  great 
armies,  would  be  bankrupt  owing  to  the  expenditures  of 
her  whole  capital  on  armaments.  The  vastest  accumula- 
tion of  wealth  which  the  world  has  ever  seen  would  have 
existed  on  one  side  of  the  Atlantic  and  the  most  formida- 
ble accumulation  of  armaments  on  the  other  side.  It  is 
difficult  to  say  what  would  have  been  the  outcome  of  this 
disproportion,  but  no  one  can  fail  to  see  the  danger  latent 
in  it  to  the  political  and  moral  equilibrium  of  the  world. 
It  will  be  one  of  the  chief  glories  of  American  democracy 
that  it  realized  this  supreme  necessity  and  the  other  na- 
tions will  give  it  credit  for  the  great  service  it  has  ren- 
dered to  civilization  by  improvising  a  great  army  at  this 
critical  moment  in  the  history  of  the  world  in  order  to  re- 
establish the  equilibrium  of  power  on  the  two  sides  of  the 
Atlantic.  This  service  will  be  still  greater  if,  as  is  hoped 
by  all  enlightened  minds,  the  new  American  army  acts  as 
the  army  of  universal  disarmament;  if  America  uses  her 
power,  her  wealth  and  the  sacrifices  she  is  making  in  the 
common  cause  to  induce  the  European  Powers  to  accept 


PREFACE  ix 

loyally  a  military  organization  based  on  the  principle  of 
reduction  of  armaments  to  the  lowest  possible  limit. 

Of  the  three  elements  which  have  contributed  to  this 
crisis,  militarism  has  been  the  most  active.  Without  it, 
as  is  proved  by  America,  the  other  two  would  have  been 
almost  innocuous  and  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  this  tre- 
mendous crisis  of  western  civilization  is  the  offspring  of 
European  militarism,  as  developed  during  the  latter  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  therefore  obvious  that 
this  evil  must  be  abolished  if  civilization  is  to  be  regenerated 
and  no  State  can  effect  so  much  towards  this  end  as  that 
Power  which  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  almost  immune 
from  it,  namely,  the  United  States,  w^hich  has  it  therefore 
in  its  power  to  save  our  civilization.  I  do  not  think  that 
I  can  better  close  this  preface  to  a  book  whose  aim  it  is  to 
discover  the  means  of  this  salvation  than  by  expressing  the 
hope  that  it  may  rise  to  its  lofty  task. 

GUGLIELMO  FeRRERO. 

Florence,  December  9th,  1917- 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface       v 

CHAPTER 

I    The  Underlying  Causes  of  the  War i 

1  Quantity  and  Quality 3 

2  Anarchy,  Liberty  and  Discipline    ....  23 

3  The  Great  and  the  Colossal 40 

II    Teutonism  and  Latinism 51 

III  Ancient  Rome  and  Modern  Culture 85 

IV  Italy's  Foreign  Policy 115 

V    The  Genius  of  the  Latin  Peoples 171 

VI    The  Intellectual  Problems  of  the  New  World  .     .  193 

VII    The  Great  Contradiction 215 

1  Patriotism  and  Progress 215 

2  The  Two  Sides  of  Progress 222 

3  A  Ruthless  War 225 

4  New  Strength  and  Ancient  Wisdom    .     .     .  229 

5  Bacchus  in  Bonds 237 


CHAPTER  I 
The  Underlying  Causes  of  the  War 

i.  quantity  and  quality 

2.  anarchy^  liberty  and  discipline 

3.  the  great  and  the  colossal 


EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY 


The  first  impression  made  by  America  on  the  European  who 
sees  it  from  the  windows  of  a  raihvay  carriage  is  that  of  an 
immense  desert.  In  the  Argentine  he  sees  boundless  green 
plains,  whose  monotony  is  broken  only  by  an  occasional 
group  of  three  or  four  one-storied  houses  behind  a  railway 
station — groups  almost  too  few  and  far  between  to  make 
him  realize  that  the  desert  is  inhabited  by  man.  In  Brazil 
he  sees  range  after  range  of  gloomy  mountains  with  here 
and  there  a  lighter  patch,  where  the  forest  has  been  cleared 
to  make  room  for  coffee  plantations.  But  on  plain  and 
mountain  alike  he  seeks  in  vain  for  signs  of  the  presence  of 
man.  The  train  runs  for  hours  without  passing  through 
so  much  as  a  village.  It  is  the  same  in  North  America,  at 
all  events  in  the  Western  States,  where  vast,  dreary  stretches 
of  country  meet  the  eye.  True,  villages  are  more  numer- 
ous and  less  scattered,  and  suddenly  the  traveller  sees  that 
the  train  is  passing  houses,  more  and  more  houses,  great 
factory  chimneys  bristle  on  either  hand,  lofty  buildings 
tower  over  the  ordinary  buildings  like  giants  over  a  multi- 
tude of  dwarfs  and  he  catches  glimpses  of  streets  with 
hurrying  motor  cars  and  trams.  He  is  passing  through 
an  important  town,  where  half  a  million,  a  million  or  even 
two  million  of  his  fellow  men  live  crowded  together  under 

the  shadows  of  the  myriad  chimneys  surrounded  by  an  al- 

3 


4  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

most  deserted  countryside.  Soon  the  train  leaves  the 
haunts  of  men  once  more  and  rushes  into  the  melancholy 
solitude  of  the  desert  plains. 

A  strange  sight,  this  boundless  void,  to  the  European,  who 
has  Hved  all  his  life  in  one  of  the  most  densely  populated 
countries  of  the  world,  where  dwellings  of  man  are  to  be 
found  everywhere  from  the  sea  shore  to  the  loftiest  inhab- 
itable mountain  peaks.  Desolate  as  these  plains  and  moun- 
tains may  appear,  they  are  however  not  unknown  to  man, 
whose  unremitting  toil  forces  them  to  yield  every  year  im- 
mense quantities  of  grain,  cotton,  tobacco,  coffee,  wool, 
meat,  gold,  silver,  copper,  iron  and  coal — a  boundless  stream 
of  wealth  which  flows  over  the  whole  world.  These  raw 
materials  are  worked  up  in  the  great  manufacturing  centres 
of  the  United  States  with  almost  incredible  rapidity. 
Even  if  Europeans  tend  to  exaggerate  everything  concern- 
ing America,  its  marvels  and  its  horrors  alike,  there  is  one 
thing  which  exceeds  their  estimate  of  it,  namely,  its  riches. 
In  no  place  or  period  has  man  succeeded  in  producing  such 
boundless  wealth  in  so  short  a  space  of  time  as  he  has  done 
in  the  United  States  and  in  the  great  republics  of  South 
America,  such  as  the  Argentine  and  Brazil,  since  the  middle 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  We  might  well  believe  that  he 
had  discovered  beyond  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic  the  fabu- 
lous garden  of  the  Hesperides  for  which  he  had  so  long 
sought  in  vain,  the  promised  land  which  for  centuries  to 
come  will  provide  mankind  with  food,  clothing,  metals  and 
fuel  enough  to  satisfy  the  wildest  dreams  of  avarice;  the 
land  of  plenty  which  is  one  day  to  banish  from  the  world  the 
scourge  of  famine,  before  which  it  trembled  for  so  many 
centuries.  If  we  bear  this  in  mind,  we  shall  realize  the  im- 
portance of  all  that  has  taken  place  during  the  last  fifty 
years  in  the  plains,  mountains  and  cities  of  America  and  the 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  5 

great  role  which  the  countries  of  the  New  World  now  play. 
The  riches  of  America  would  not,  however,  be  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  historical  phenomena  of  our  age,  if  they 
merely  furnished  man  with  powers  of  action  and  enjoyment 
such  as  he  has  never  before  possessed.  Their  effect  is  at 
once  wider  and  deeper,  for  they  are  hastening  the  end  of  a 
movement  which  began  more  than  a  century  ago — one  w^hich 
threatens  to  overwhelm  the  very  foundations  of  our  civiliza- 
tion; they  place  before  us  a  formidable  problem,  the  most 
serious,  in  my  opinion,  which  we  have  to  face ;  the  problem, 
which  together  with  the  influence,  hatred  or  admiration  of 
the  riches  of  America,  lies  at  the  bottom  of  almost  all  the 
moral  and  social  difficulties  surrounding  us :  the  problem  of 
progress.  This  statement  may  appear  perhaps  obscure:  I 
will  now  endeavour  to  explain  it. 

II 

The  wealth  of  America !  We  constantly  hear  this  spoken 
of  in  Europe,  frequently  with  envy,  as  if  it  were  the  riches 
of  some  uncivilized  people  w^hich,  in  order  to  acquire  the 
treasures  of  the  earth,  looks  with  contempt  on  the  things 
of  the  intellect.  One  does  not,  however,  need  to  travel  in 
America  in  order  to  realize  that  the  Americans  are 
no  mere  barbarians,  wholly  given  over  to  money  grub- 
bing. I  can  only  here  give  a  few  instances  from  North 
America,  but  they  would  almost  all  apply  on  a  smaller  scale 
to  the  great  States  of  Southern  America.  The  eft"ort  made 
by  the  Americans  to  establish  schools  all  over  the  country 
would  in  itself  be  sufficient  to  refute  such  an  accusation. 
You  have  all  heard  of  the  great  American  universities,  such 
as  Harvard  and  Columbia.  These  institutions  are  real 
cities  of  learning,  with  splendid  buildings,  gardens,  laborato- 


6  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ries,  museums,  libraries,  playing  fields  and  swimming  baths. 
The  beauty  and  comfort  of  the  buildings  are  in  themselves 
a  proof  of  the  esteem  accorded  to  learning,  but  of  this  the 
scholastic  program  affords  even  more  striking  evidence.  It 
may  safely  be  said  that  everything  which  can  be  taught  is 
taught :  all  languages,  living  and  dead ;  the  histories  and  lit- 
eratures of  every  land,  both  ancient  and  modern,  which  have 
influenced  the  development  of  civilization;  all  sciences,  both 
theoretical  and  practical.  Millions  are  required  annually 
for  the  upkeep  of  these  buildings  and  the  support  of  the 
professors,  yet  nearly  all  these  great  universities  are  wholly 
independent  of  the  State.  They  are  maintained  by  the  fees 
paid  by  the  students  and  by  the  generosity  of  the  rich. 
Bankers,  manufacturers  and  business  men  contribute  a  large 
proportion  of  the  sum  required  for  the  salaries  of  all  these 
professors  of  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  philosophy,  mathe- 
matics, etc.  Nor  do  the  universities  absorb  all  the  money 
spent  by  pubHc  bodies  and  the  wealthy  classes  on  education. 
Everyw^here  we  find  museums,  libraries  and  schools  of  every 
kind  for  both  men  and  w^omen  of  every  class  set  up  by 
cities,  states  and  millionaires  for  the  spread  of  general 
education  and  professional  training.  Face  to  face  with 
these  facts,  it  is  difficult  to  say  that  the  upper  classes  in 
America  care  about  nothing  but  money.  It  may  be  asserted 
that  they  are  lacking  in  taste,  that  their  tow^ns  are  hideous. 
It  would  undoubtedly  require  some  courage  to  say  that 
American  cities  are  beautiful,  but  it  would  none  the  less  be 
unjust  to  say  that  the  American  is  indifferent  to  beauty  or 
to  deny  that  he  makes  great  efforts  to  beautify  his  country. 
All  the  architectural  schools  of  Europe,  those  of  Paris 
above  all,  are  full  of  enthusiastic  American  students. 
Fabulous  sums  are  spent  on  fine  public  buildings  by  towns, 
states,  banks,  insurance  companies,  universities  and  railways. 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  7 

These  edifices  may  not  be  masterpieces,  but  it  can  hardly 
be  denied  that  some  of  them  are  very  handsome  and  that 
America  possesses  many  talented  architects.  We  con- 
stantly hear  it  asserted  in  Europe  that  Americans  give  high 
prices  for  antiques  or  so-called  antiques  and  are  incapable 
of  distinguishing  between  the  really  beautiful  and  the  medi- 
ocre, the  genuine  and  the  faked.  But  those  who  have  vis- 
ited rich  Americans  in  their  homes  know  that  while  the 
pretentious  and  the  dupe  are  to  be  found  in  America  as  in 
every  other  country,  there  are  also  many  Americans  who 
are  real  connoisseurs. 

A  writer  given  to  paradox  might  even  assert  that  Amer- 
icans are  more  idealistic  than  Europeans,  if  the  desire  to 
understand,  admire  and  assimilate  everything  —  art,  ideas 
and  rehgions  alike  —  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  proof  of  ideal- 
ism. Go  to  New  York :  you  will  see  in  the  streets  speci- 
mens of  every  kind  of  architecture ;  every  religion  is  repre- 
sented in  its  churches;  every  school  of  music  in  its  theatres; 
every  style  of  decorative  art  in  its  houses.  Now  New  York 
is  typical  of  that  spirit  of  universal  reconciliation,  somewhat 
vague  and  superficial  perhaps,  but  vigorous  and  sincere, 
characteristic  of  contemporary  America,  of  w^hich  prag- 
matism is  the  philosophic  expression.  When  pragmatism 
affirmed  that  all  useful  ideas  are  true,  did  it  really  intend, 
as  has  been  alleged,  to  subordinate  the  ideal  to  the  practical  ? 
I  hardly  think  it  is  possible  to  believe  this  when  one  has 
once  breathed  American  air.  No,  pragmatism  is  essentially 
a  doctrine  of  conciliation.  Its  aim  is  to  afYord  man  the 
means  of  reconciling  opposing  ideas  and  doctrines  by  prov- 
ing that  all  ideas,  even  those  which  appear  mutually  ex- 
clusive, may  help  to  become  wiser,  stronger  and  better. 
Why  then  struggle  for  the  triumph  of  one  to  the  detriment 
of  the  other  instead  of  allowing  man  to  take  from  each  all 


8  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

the  good  that  each  has  to  offer?  Those  who  know  North 
America  will  say  that  if  there  be  a  distinctively  American 
doctrine,  it  is  this.  Many  philosophic  objections  might  of 
course  be  made  to  such  a  doctrine,  but,  whether  it  be  true 
or  false,  it  proves  that  the  people  which  conceived  it,  far 
from  despising  the  ideal,  has  such  a  respect  for  all  ideas, 
that  it  has  not  the  courage  to  reject  any  one  of  them. 

But  for  the  limitations  of  space,  many  analogous  in- 
stances might  be  cited.  There  are  rich,  uneducated  people 
in  America  as  elsewhere,  but  the  boor  rolling  in  money  is 
a  mythical  being.  Nor  is  this  surprising.  Modern  society 
is  so  constituted  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  a  nation 
which  is  both  wealthy  and  ignorant.  Modern  industry, 
commerce  and  agriculture  demand  special  technical  knowl- 
edge and  a  highly  perfected  social  organization;  in  other 
words,  a  high  degree  of  scientific  and  judicial  culture. 
America  cannot  therefore  be  said  to  be  indifferent  to  the 
things  of  the  intellect ;  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  that 
she  is  less  interested  in  them  as  a  people  than  in  industry, 
commerce  and  agriculture.  But  is  not  this  the  case  also  in 
Europe?  Who  would  venture  to  assert  that  the  progress 
of  literature,  art  and  science  is  the  dominant  interest  of 
the  governments  and  upper  classes  of  the  Old  World? 
Listen  to  the  conversation  of  those  around  us.  What  are 
its  topics?  The  perfecting  of  industrial  machinery,  t-he 
development  of  coal  and  iron  mines,  the  utilization  of 
waterfalls,  and  the  expansion  of  industries  and  commerce. 
Kings  who  reign  by  the  grace  of  God  declare  publicly  that 
they  have  nothing  so  much  at  heart  as  the  commerce  af  their 
countries!  If  this  be  American  barbarism,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  Europe  is  being  Americanized  wdth  alarming 
rapidity.  This  economic  effort  of  Europe  is  not,  however, 
in  the  least  surprising:  it  is  but  the  dizzy  speeding  up  of  a 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  9 

great  historical  movement  which  began  in  the  far-away  days 
when  an  obscure  and  tenacious  Genoese  spread  his  canvas 
and  set  sail  across  the  ocean  for  the  unknown  West. 
Europe  had,  indeed,  given  birth  to  miracles  of  art  and  liter- 
ature, to  profound  systems  of  philosophy,  lofty  moral  stand- 
ards and  learned  codes  of  law  —  but  she  was  poor;  she  pro- 
duced but  little  and  that  little  slowly.  She  had  made  gods 
of  tradition  and  authority;  she  had  set  bounds  to  the  energy 
of  man  by  means  of  laws,  prejudices  and  precepts;  she  bent 
the  pride  of  man  by  telling  him  unceasingly  that  he  was 
weak,  unstable,  corrupt  and  —  to  quote  Virgil's  metaphor 
—  like  the  boatman  rowing  slowly  against  the  stream. 
Woe  to  him  if  for  a  single  moment  he  relaxes  his  efforts 
to  make  headway  against  the  current  w^hich  is  ever  ready 
to  carry  him  away  with  his  frail  bark!  Then,  suddenly, 
she  discovered  an  immense  continent  in  the  midst  of  the 
ocean  and  realized  that  Prometheus,  who  had  only  stolen  a 
single  spark,  was  but  a  clumsy  thief.  She  discovered  elec- 
tricity and  coal  mines ;  she  learned  how  to  make  the  steam- 
engine  and  consequently  how  to  multiply  her  wealth  with 
a  rapidity  unknown  to  our  ancestors.  From  that  moment 
man  was  no  longer  content  merely  to  dream  of  the  prom- 
ised land ;  he  wished  to  see  it  for  himself.  He  demolished 
all  those  traditions,  laws  and  institutions  which  hampered 
the  flight  of  human  energy;  he  learned  to  w^ork  both  hard 
and  quickly;  he  won  both  liberty  and  riches  and  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  progress. 

The  idea  of  progress  was  born  during  the  closing  years 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  at  which  time  man  began  to 
realize  that  he  was  able  to  conquer  the  earth  and  its  treas- 
ures. It  developed  and  spread  during  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, and  overcame  both  the  objections  of  philosophers  and 
the  misoneism  of  the  masses,  the  scruples  of  rehgion  and 


10        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

the  spirit  of  tradition,  in  proportion  as  man  extended  his 
dominion  over  nature,  seized  her  treasures  and  shook  oft* 
the  yoke  of  obsolete  teaching.  The  tremendous  develop- 
ment of  the  great  American  States  ensured  its  final  triumph 
and  it  is  today  the  dominating  principle  of  our  civilization 
—  one  which  obliges  us  to  make  efforts,  to  run  risks  and 
endure  privation.  And  yet  ...  if  you  ask  people  who 
have  the  word  "  progress  "  constantly  on  their  lips  what 
they  understand  by  it,  how  many  can  give  you  an  exact 
definition?  You  have  only  to  read  the  books  and  articles 
on  the  subject  or  to  study  the  proceedings  of  sociological 
congresses  to  see  how  confused  and  discordant  are  the 
ideas  even  of  experts.  The  idea  of  progress  appears  to  be 
as  popular  and  all  powerful  as  it  is  vague  and  incoherent. 
It  is  on  every  one's  lips,  but  no  one  knows  exactly  what  it 
is.  Stranger  still,  in  the  century  of  progress  you  hear 
constant  complaints  of  universal  decadence.  Workmen, 
employes,  soldiers,  students,  children,  parents  and  servants 
are  no  better  than  before;  good  cooking  is  as  much  a  thing 
of  the  past  as  good  literature,  beautiful  furniture,  and  art, 
and  courteous  manners.  How  is  it  that  so  many  things  are 
deteriorating  in  this  age  of  progress?  Are  we  making  prog- 
ress or  not?  Is  the  progress  of  which  we  are  so  proud 
and  to  which  we  daily  sacrifice  our  leisure  and  our  peace  of 
mind,  sometimes  even  our  very  life,  but  an  illusion  after 
all? 

Ill 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  the  seriousness  of  this 
question,  which  may  be  regarded  as  fundamental,  since  on 
it  depends  the  final  sentence  passed  upon  our  civilization: 
whether  it  is  a  serious  matter  or  a  great  delusion.  And 
yet  our  age  cannot  answer  it.     Why  is  this?     How  is  this 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  11 

apparent  contradiction  to  be  explained?  This  is  the  great 
problem  which  all  I  saw,  learned  and  observed  in  North 
and  South  America  forced  me  to  face.  Has  the  problem 
of  the  New  World  struck  me  in  this  light  because  my  start- 
ing point  was  not  only  Europe  but  also  the  dead  and  gone 
ages  of  ancient  history?  It  may  be  so.  At  all  events  this 
obscure  problem  has  always  seemed  somewhat  clearer  when 
I  compared  American,  and  more  especially  North  Amer- 
ican, society  with  the  ancient  civilizations  to  which  I  had 
devoted  so  much  study.  True,  the  civilizations  from  which 
our  own  is  descended  were  poor:  their  desires,  ambitions, 
their  initiative,  enterprise  and  originality  were  all  limited ; 
they  produced  but  little  and,  while  they  suffered  much  from 
lack  of  material  resources,  they  only  looked  upon  the  in- 
crease of  riches  as  a  painful  necessity.  They  did,  however, 
strive  after  a  high  standard  of  perfection  in  art,  literature, 
morals  and  religion,  as  is  proved  by  the  artistic  character  of 
almost  all  the  industries  of  the  past,  the  importance  attrib- 
uted to  the  decorative  arts,  to  questions  of  personal  morals, 
ceremonial  and  forms.  Quality  was  more  highly  esteemed 
than  quantity,  and  all  the  limitations  to  which  these  civiliza- 
tions were  subject  —  limitations  which  seem  so  strange  to 
us  today  —  were  but  the  necessary  price  of  this  ardently 
desired  perfection.  We  have  made  the  accumulation  of 
riches  our  aim;  we  have  won  liberty  and  destroyed  almost 
all  the  limitations  of  the  past;  but  we  have  had  to  abandon 
nearly  all  the  ideals  of  artistic,  religious  and  moral  perfec- 
tion venerated  by  our  ancestors  and  sacrifice  quality  to  quan- 
tity. 

Take,  for  example,  the  dispute  as  to  the  study  of  the 
classics.  Why  did  men  study  Homer  and  Cicero  with  so 
much  enthusiasm  in  times  past?  Because  the  great  Greek 
and  Latin  writers  were  then  considered  the  models  of  a 


la        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

literary  perfection  greatly  admired  by  the  ruling  classes, 
which  was  not  merely  an  intellectual  adornment.  It  could 
confer  public  esteem,  celebrity,  even  glory  and  lofty  posi- 
tions. During  the  last  century  these  models  have,  how- 
ever, lost  much  of  their  prestige,  either  because  many  people 
have  learnt  to  appreciate  the  literature  of  other  ages  or 
because  they  are  no  longer  in  touch  with  a  period  which 
speaks  too  much  and  writes  too  fast.  How  can  a  candidate 
for  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States,  who  has  to  make 
ten  or  fifteen  speeches  a  day,  aim  at  the  perfection  of  ora- 
tory of  Cicero  or  Quintilia.n?  But  the  day  when  classic 
learning  ceased  to  be  a  school  of  literary  taste  pronounced 
its  doom ;  once  the  ancient  writers  ceased  to  be  models,  their 
w^orks  became  books  like  any  others,  and  less  interesting  to 
many  readers  than  much  modern  literature.  We  hear  much 
of  an  artistic  crisis.  Here  we  must,  however,  draw  a  dis- 
tinction. The  arts  may  be  divided  into  two  categories: 
those  which  merely  serve  to  amuse  man  and  to  offer  him 
an  agreeable  pastime,  such  as  music,  the  drama  and,  to  a 
certain  extent,  literature;  and  those  which  beautify  the 
w^orld,  such  as  architecture,  sculpture,  painting  and  all  the 
decorative  arts.  Now  it  is  obvious  that  if  there  is  a  crisis 
in  every  branch  of  art  at  the  present  time,  the  crisis  is  far 
more  acute  in  the  arts  belonging  to  the  latter  category.  No 
age  has  spent  so  much  on  beautifying  the  world  as  our  own 
has  done;  no  epoch  has  given  birth  to  such  hosts  of  archi- 
tects, sculptors,  painters  and  decorators,  built  so  many 
towns,  palaces  and  bridges,  or  laid  out  so  many  parks  and 
gardens.  Why  are  we  so  dissatisfied  with  the  results? 
Why  have  the  Americans,  who  spent  such  fabulous  sums  on 
beautifying  their  towns,  never  succeeded  in  building  a  S. 
Mark  or  a  Notre  Dame  ?  We  have  everything :  money,  art- 
ists and  the  desire  to  create  the  beautiful;  what  is  lacking? 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  18 

Only  one  thing :  time.  One  day  at  New  York  I  was  speaking 
in  appreciative  terms  of  American  architecture  to  a  very  tal- 
ented architect.  ''  Yes,  yes,"  he  answered  sarcastically,  ''  my 
compatriots  are  quite  ready  to  spend  one  hundred  million 
dollars  on  building  a  church  as  beautiful  as  S.  Mark's  in 
Venice,  but  they  w^ould  insist  on  its  being  finished  in 
eighteen  months."  The  reply  was  suggestive.  How  is  it 
possible  to  beautify  a  world  which  is  perpetually  being 
transformed,  w^here  nothing  is  stable  and  where  everything, 
from  furniture  to  buildings,  must  be  turned  out  in  quanti- 
ties? Time,  reasonable  leisure,  a  wise  moderation  in  the 
demand  for  quantity  and  a  certain  stability  of  taste  are 
indispensable  in  the  construction  of  beautiful  buildings  and 
beautiful  furniture  alike  if  even  a  fairly  high  standard  of 
perfection  is  to  be  attained.  S.  Mark  and  Notre  Dame 
cannot  be  built  in  eighteen  months  and  France  could  never 
have  produced  her  great  decorative  styles  if  public  taste 
had  been  as  changeable  as  it  is  now  and  people  had  expected 
to  refurnish  every  ten  years. 

IV 

How  many  other  instances  could  be  given!  If  we  look 
around  us  we  see  on  all  hands  this  struggle  between  quality 
and  quantity,  which  is  the  very  essence  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion. Two  worlds  are  at  war  in  our  day;  not,  as  is  so  often 
thought,  Europe  and  America,  but  quantity  and  quality,  and 
their  conflicts  disturb  and  rend  asunder  America  just  as 
much  Europe.  The  impossibility  of  defining  progress,  the 
contradiction  between  our  constant  complaints  of  general 
decadence  and  our  equally  constant  assertions  that  the  world 
is  progressing,  are  another  effect  of  this  struggle.  Our  age 
has  increased  the  output  of  certain  commodities  while  lower- 
ing the  standard  of  quality  so  that  it  appears  to  be  progress- 


U  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ing  if  we  judge  it  from  the  standpoint  of  quantity,  and  to  be 
deteriorating  if  we  judge  it  from  that  of  quahty.  We  are 
bewildered,  because  we  are  constantly  confusing  these  two 
standards  by  using  sometimes  one  and  sometimes  the  other. 
Set  an  architect  and  a  builder  in  concrete  to  discuss  our 
age:  the  former  will  tell  you  that  the  multiplication  of 
hideous,  jerry  built  towns  and  villages  is  a  sign  of  deca- 
dence and  barbarism,  because  they  prove  that  we  have  lost 
the  power  of  raising  the  marvellous  monuments  which  are 
the  glory  of  the  Middle  Ages;  while  the  latter  will  main- 
tain with  equal  sincerity  that  no  epoch  has  been  so  progres- 
sive as  ours  which  sees  the  birth  of  so  many  new  towns  and 
the  extension  of  those  already  existing.  The  former 
judges  from  the  standpoint  of  quality  and  is  right  in  assert- 
ing that  Notre  Dame  or  S.  Mark's,  Venice,  are  of  greater 
value  than  a  whole  American  city;  the  other,  who  judges 
from  the  standpoint  of  quantity,  is  equally  justified  in  draw- 
ing a  directly  opposite  conclusion.  In  America  I  have  seen 
an  even  more  striking  instance  of  this  tragic  misunder- 
standing, which  is  latent  in  nearly  all  our  judgments  on 
good  and  evil.  When  I  arrived  the  campaign  which  had 
been  going  on  for  some  years  against  the  trusts,  the  great 
banks,  the  railway  and  insurance  companies,  was  at  its 
fiercest.  Speeches,  articles  and  books  by  men  of  weight 
accused  the  great  financial  magnates  of  being  propagators  of 
corruption  and  tools  of  a  modern  despotism  no  less  detest- 
able than  the  despotisms  of  ancient  times,  and  of  forming 
disgraceful  organizations  to  rob  honest  men  of  the  fruit  of 
their  toil.  This  campaign  was  so  widespread  among  the 
middle  and  lower  classes  as  to  contribute  in  no  small  degree 
to  the  fall  of  the  Republican  Party.  This  wave  of  popular 
indignation  was,  however,  met  in  America,  as  it  had  been  in 
Europe,  with  absolute  composure  by  economists  and  busi- 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  16 

ness  men  who  accused  the  whole  movement  of  being  a 
return  to  the  ideas  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  sang  the  praises 
of  modern  finance,  its  immense  enterprises,  great  successes 
and  formidable  organizations.  How  is  such  a  marked  dif- 
ference of  opinion  on  a  question  of  such  importance  to  be 
explained  in  an  epoch  so  enlightened  and  educated  as  our 
own?  Has  part  of  the  world  been  struck  blind  and  only 
the  remainder  been  gifted  with  clear  vision?  Not  at  all.  It 
is  not  a  question  of  sight  or  blindness,  but  of  two  sets  of  men 
having  different  aims  and  employing  different  standards  of 
measurement.  How  can  they  possibly  come  to  an  under- 
standing? If  the  quantitative  standard  be  adopted,  if  it  be 
admitted  that  the  aim  and  object  of  life  is  to  produce  the 
greatest  possible  quantity  of  wealth  in  the  shortest  possible 
time,  the  economists  are  right.  The  injustices  and  corrup- 
tions denounced  by  the  adversaries  of  modern  finance  are 
but  the  trifling  drawbacks  of  the  economic  liberty  to  which 
the  modern  world  owes  its  w^ealth.  The  idea  that  the  earn- 
ings of  the  individual  should  be  determined  by  the  blind  play 
of  economic  forces  was,  however,  unknown  to  all  the  civil- 
izations preceding  our  own.  They  always  strove  to  adjust 
this  play  of  forces,  so  as  to  bring  it  into  agreement  with 
the  principles  of  charity  and  justice.  In  order  to  attain 
this  end,  they  did  not  even  hesitate  to  limit  the  developments 
of  industry  and  commerce,  as,  for  instance,  by  forbidding 
usury.  They  subordinated  economic  development  to  an 
ideal  of  moral  perfection;  quantity  to  quality.  Now,  if  this 
standard  be  applied  to  the  modern  world,  those  who  disap- 
prove of  modern  finance  are  right;  certain  methods  em- 
ployed by  modern  finance  and,  in  certain  cases,  even  cor- 
ruption, may  further  the  production  of  riches,  but  are  none 
the  less  distasteful  to  a  sensitive  moral  conscience.  The 
partisans  and  opponents  of  finance  may  talk  for  ever,  they 


16        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

will  never  agree,  for  they  start  from  different  standpoints, 
which  can  never  be  reconciled. 

We  now  see  why  the  comparisons  made  between  Europe 
and  America,  all  the  discussions  as  to  which  of  the  two 
worlds  is  the  best,  can  never  lead  to  any  definitive  con- 
clusion. The  weak  point  of  all  these  comparisons  is  always 
the  confusion  of  the  two  standards.  America  is  neither  the 
egregious  country  where  no  one  has  an  idea  beyond  money 
making,  nor  the  fabulous  land  of  marvels  its  admirers  would 
have  us  believe  it.  It  is  the  country  in  which  the  principle 
of  quantity,  which  has  become  so  powerful  during  the  last 
century  and  a  half,  has  won  its  most  signal  triumph.  An 
active,  energetic,  vigorous  people  found  itself  in  possession 
of  an  immense  territory,  of  which  part  was  extremely  fertile 
and  other  districts  rich  in  mines  and  forests,  just  at  the  time 
when  civilization  had  discovered  the  means  which  rendered 
possible  the  development  of  immense  tracts  of  country  and 
the  rapid  production  of  wealth:  the  steam  engine.  This 
people  had  in  its  hands  a  country  unhampered  by  tradition 
and  was  therefore  able  to  march  along  the  new  paths  of  his- 
tory with  unexampled  rapidity  and  energy.  In  the  course  of 
a  single  century  it  has  multiplied  its  population,  its  towns 
and  its  wealth  ten,  fifteen  and  even  thirty  fold.  It  created 
in  hot  haste  a  social  order  which  has  subordinated  the  ideals 
of  perfection  prevalent  hitherto  to  a  new  ideal:  the  ideal  of 
increasing  size  and  increasing  rapidity.  It  is  not  true  that 
America  is  indifferent  to  intellectual  things,  but  her  efforts 
in  the  field  of  art  and  science  neither  are  nor  can  be  subor- 
dinated to  the  other  and  higher  ideal  of  the  rapid  and  in- 
tensive development  of  the  continent  by  means  of  machinery. 
At  the  same  time  it  is  not  correct  to  assert  that  Europe 
stands  for  the  essence  of  civilization,  as  against  American 
barbarism,  or  that  the  Old  World  has  seen  its  day  and  is 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  17 

powerless  and  paralysed  by  the  trammels  of  routine.  The 
ancient  societies  of  Europe  have  also  entered  upon  what 
might  be  called  the  quantitative  phase  of  history ;  in  Europe, 
too,  the  masses  demand  a  higher  standard  of  living;  public 
and  private  expenditure  is  increasing  with  alarming  rapidity 
and  it  has  become  absolutely  necessary  to  further  the  produc- 
tion of  wealth.  This  is,  however,  a  far  more  difficult  matter 
in  Europe  than  in  America.  Europe  is  far  more  densely 
populated;  part  of  the  land  is  exhausted;  the  many  political 
divisions  and  the  multiplicity  of  tongues  greatly  increase  the 
difficulties  of  development  on  a  large  scale;  the  traditions  of 
the  days  when  men  produced  a  small  number  of  articles 
which  attained  a  high  standard  of  perfection  are  more  pow- 
erful. Europe  is  superior  to  America  in  the  higher  things 
of  the  mind,  but  in  economic  enterprises  she  is  slower,  more 
timid,  less  prodigal;  in  short,  more  limited,  nor  could  it  be 
otherwise.  She  cannot  produce  the  same  quantity  at  the 
same  rate.  Europe  may  thus  seem  superior  to  America  or 
America  to  Europe,  according  to  whether  we  make  use  of 
the  standard  of  quantity  or  quality.  If  the  perfection  of  a 
civilization  is  to  be  gauged  by  its  output  of  riches  America 
must  be  considered  the  model;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  per- 
pection  is  to  be  judged  by  intellectual  activity  Europe  bears 
off  the  palm. 

V 

The  objection  might  be  urged :  *'  But  we  cannot  live  for 
ever  in  a  state  of  indecision.  What  standard  ought  we  to 
choose?  Is  the  world,  as  we  see  it  today,  a  marvellous 
epic  of  progress  or  a  gloomy  tragedy  of  decay?  Which  of 
the  two  worlds,  Europe  or  America,  is  the  better?  Which 
is  to  be  regarded  as  the  model?  You  have  no  right  to  set 
such  problems  if  you  cannot  solve  them,  and  if  you  cannot 


18        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

solve  them,  you  might  have  saved  yourself  your  journeys 
to  America  or  at  all  events  have  spent  your  time  on  these 
journeys  on  other  things  and  refrained  from  writing  a 
lengthy  volume  on  the  conflict  between  the  two  worlds.  " 
Such  an  objection  would  be  both  natural  and  reasonable. 
It  is,  however,  unlikely  that  man  will  ever  succeed  in  solv- 
ing the  problem  with  any  degree  of  certainty  during  the 
present  phase  of  civilization,  for  this  very  uncertainty  is  the 
price  of  man's  conquest  of  the  earth  and  of  the  enormous 
development  of  America  which  we  ourselves  have  wit- 
nessed. In  order  to  conquer  the  earth  and  its  treasures  we 
have  sacrificed  many  of  the  ideals  of  perfection  —  artistic, 
moral  and  religious  —  bequeathed  to  us  by  our  ancestors; 
are  we,  however,  ready  to  give  them  up  altogether?  Can 
we  even  imagine  a  world  of  pure  quantity  without  either 
morals,  beauty  or  justice?  The  question  is  its  own  answer. 
But  the  pride  and  cupidity  of  man  have  been  excited  to 
such  a  pitch  by  his  conquests,  that  the  modern  world  seems 
to  have  made  up  its  mind  to  go  on  with  the  great  adventure 
to  the  bitter  end.  A  religious,  moral  or  political  movement 
placing  reasonable  limits  to  needs  and  luxury  in  every  class 
seems  very  unlikely  to  take  place  in  our  day  and,  so  long 
as  the  population,  the  demands  of  all  classes,  and  public 
and  private  expenditure  continue  to  increase,  quantity  will 
continue  to  extend  its  sway.  We  shall  be  forced  to  subor- 
dinate art  and  morals  to  the  necessity  of  manufacturing 
more  rapid  machinery,  bringing  more  and  more  land  under 
cultivation  and  discovering  mines.  The  production  of 
wealth  will  tend  more  and  more  to  become  the  standard  of 
progress  and  our  day  will  become  increasingly  the  day  of 
those  who  possess  vast  tracts  of  territory,  great  empires, 
and  rich  coal  and  iron  mines.  Fire  will  once  more  become, 
as  at  the  dawn  of  history,  the  supreme  deity,  and  the  intel- 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  19 

lectual  and  moral  uncertainty  in  which  we  live  will  continue. 
No  system  of  philosophy,  no  science,  will  be  able  to  replace 
this  uncertainty  by  a  clear  and  exact  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  beauty  and  ugliness,  truth  and  error.  All  the  qualita- 
tive differences  between  things  will  tend  to  become  confused 
in  our  minds.  We  shall  not  be  able  to  give  an  exact  defini- 
tion of  progress,  just  as  we  shall  find  it  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish between  legitimate  needs  and  vices,  between  reason- 
able expenditure  and  extravagance.  We  shall  change  our 
aesthetic  principles  every  year;  we  shall  consider  a  thing 
ugly  today  which  we  admired  yesterday  and  vice  versa,  and 
after  probing  into  the  mystery  of  those  things  before  which 
our  fathers  bowed  their  heads,  we  shall  end  by  asking  at  the 
very  moment  when  science  is  celebrating  its  greatest  tri- 
umphs whether  it  is  true  or  false,  whether  it  teaches  to  know 
reality  or  merely  deludes  us;  whether  we  know  or  are  but 
dreaming!  Here  we  have  the  great  problem  with  which 
contemporary  philosophy  is  confronted.  Everything  seems 
to  totter  to  its  fall  around  man  who,  by  transcending  every 
limit,  even  the  reality  of  the  world,  has  become  too 
powerful ! 

VI 

If  there  be  no  way  out  of  the  situation,  why  face  it  at  all, 
you  will  say?  W'hy  recognize  the  existence  of  an  incurable 
malady?  I  am  of  the  opinion,  however,  that  it  is  well  to 
analyse  our  present  strange  position,  one  which  is  unique 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  that  a  thorough  under- 
standing of  it  cannot  fail  to  be  of  service  to  those  men  — 
scholars,  artists,  men  of  letters,  jurists,  and  the  religious 
—  who  represent  the  world  of  quality.  With  the  exception 
of  medicine,  whose  aim  is  to  cure  our  maladies,  of  those 
sciences  which  make  discoveries  of  service  to  industry,  and 


20        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

of  the  arts  which  minister  to  public  amusement,  the  world 
of  intellect  of  today  seems  out  of  touch  with  the  world.  Is 
there  a  single  earnest  priest  who  has  not  asked  himself  in 
moments  of  discouragement  of  what  use  it  is  to  preach  the 
Christian  virtues  to  a  century  whose  power  lies  in  overween- 
ing pride  and  an  almost  delirious  greed  of  possession? 
What  intelligent  historian  has  not  wondered  from  time  to 
time  to  what  purpose  he  persists  in  recording  the  events  of 
the  past  to  a  generation  which  only  looks  to  the  future? 
What  philosopher  has  not  felt  in  this  age,  so  wholly  absorbed 
in  economic  realities,  as  if  he  had  strayed  into  this  world 
from  some  other  planet?  What  artist,  whose  ambition  is 
not  confined  to  money  making  but  who  strives  after  a  high 
standard  of  perfection,  has  not  often  cursed  the  frenzied 
whirl  in  which  we  all  live  today?  From  time  to  time  an 
apparent  reversion  to  the  old  order  takes  place;  a  sudden 
interest  is  manifested  in  the  progress  of  religion,  the  future 
of  morals,  the  history  of  the  past,  the  problems  of  meta- 
physics, and  the  artistic  remains  of  dead  civilizations. 
These  passing  enthusiasms  are,  however,  too  transitory  to 
convince  artists  and  scholars  that  they  have  a  definite  and 
useful  task  to  accomplish.  One  reason  why  all  forms  of 
intellectual  activity  tend  at  the  present  time  to  become  either 
lucrative  professions  or  bureaucratic  careers  is  that  they  are 
forced  to  seek  outside  —  in  money  or  in  social  position  — 
the  object  which  they  can  no  longer  find  in  themselves. 
How  many  times,  during  my  long  journeys  across  the  great, 
lonely  tracks  of  America,  have  I  thought,  as  I  gazed  on  the 
wheat  fields  or  coffee  plantations  stretching  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach,  of  the  little  bits  of  marble  so  delicately 
carved  by  the  artists  of  ancient  Greece  which  are  the  treas- 
ures of  our  museums.  Was  not  the  marvellous  perfection 
of  Greek  art  due  to  the  fact  that  at  a  certain  period  in  their 


QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY  21 

history  they  ceased  to  try  to  extend  their  dominion  over  the 
earth  and  its  treasures?  Have  we  not  succeeded  in  con- 
quering these  immense  stretches  of  country  because  we  have 
given  up  striving  after  the  artistic  and  moral  perfection 
which  was  the  glory  of  the  ancients?  This  idea  seemed  to 
me  to  shed  fresh  light  upon  the  ancient  civilizations  and  our 
own  day  alike.  If  the  civilizations  which  carried  their  de- 
sire for  perfection  too  far  ended  by  exhausting  their  energies 
in  the  pursuit  of  a  goal  at  once  too  circumscribed  and  too 
difficult  of  attainment,  are  not  the  civilizations  which  give 
themselves  over  to  the  passion  for  immensity,  speed  and 
quantity  fated  to  end  in  a  new%  coarse  and  violent  barbarism  ? 
If  a  people  is  to  live  happily  and  work  profitably,  there  must 
be  a  certain  balance  between  quantity  and  quality,  and  this 
balance  is  only  possible  if  the  ideals  of  perfection,  whether 
artistic,  moral  or  religious  —  are  capable  of  setting  a  bound 
to  the  desire  for  the  increase  of  wealth.  How  many  forms 
of  intellectual  activity,  which  are  at  present  neglected  or 
despised,  or  else  completely  transformed  into  careers  or 
professions,  would  once  more  become  noble  missions  if 
artists,  historians,  philosophers,  priests,  men  of  letters  and 
the  upper  classes  by  whom  they  are  surrounded  realized  of 
what  supreme  importance  it  is  to  keep  intact  some  sort  of 
breakwater  against  the  violent  flood  of  modern  progress! 
What  renewed  energy  would  these  forms  of  intellectual  life 
draw  from  their  consciousness  of  this  task  and  its  impor- 
tance! Take  classical  studies,  for  instance.  I  touch  upon 
this  point  once  more,  as  I  draw  to  a  close,  because  it  is  one 
about  which  I  thought  much  during  my  travels  in  America 
—  classical  studies  will  never  flourish  again  unless,  after 
moderating  their  scientific  claims,  we  restore  to  them  their 
original  artistic  and  literary  character.  They  must,  that  is 
to  say,  have  as  their  object  the  preservation  of  an  ideal  of 


22        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

aesthetic  perfection.  We  cannot,  however,  simply  return  to 
the  humanism  of  times  past.  Greece  and  Rome  can  no 
longer  be  regarded  as  the  one  and  only  standard  of  beauty. 
Times  have  changed,  the  world  would  no  longer  tolerate  the 
confinement  of  taste  within  such  narrow  bounds.  Greece 
and  Rome  may  and  should  be  one  of  our  models,  the  most 
ancient  and  the  most  glorious.  The  models  created  by 
Greece  and  Rome  have  exercised  such  immense  influence  on 
the  histor}^  of  the  world,  they  have  so  often  aided  nations 
to  emerge  from  barbarism  and  to  find  in  limitation  the  con- 
sciousness of  beauty,  truth  and  justice,  that  it  is  our  duty  to 
keep  them  alive  in  our  minds  and  ready  to  come  once  more 
to  our  assistance.  In  order  to  keep  them  alive,  we  must 
have  schools  where  we  can  learn  to  know  and  feel  them. 
No  ideal  of  perfection  is  either  absolute,  eternal  or  neces- 
sary; they  are  one  and  all  born  of  an  arbitrary  and  hence 
transitory  limitation ;  they  are  like  so  many  sparks  from  the 
infinite  light  surrounding  us.  They  pass  away  in  an  instant 
if  man  makes  no  effort  to  retain  them.  There  have  been 
periods  which  shattered  statues  and  burned  books  whose 
fragments  we  treasure  as  relics  and  this  destruction  of  an- 
tiquity might  conceivably  take  place  again,  though  under 
less  violent  forms.  What  will  be  the  use  of  filling  our 
museums  with  Greek  statues  when  the  world  no  longer  ap- 
preciates their  beauty,  or  of  publishing  perfect  editions  of 
the  classics  when  only  a  handful  of  specialists  can  read 
them?  Just  because  in  the  great  continents  of  America  fire 
is  once  more  about  to  become  the  lord  of  the  earth  and  the 
supreme  deity  of  man,  as  it  was  at  the  dawn  of  history,  the 
law  of  equilibrium  demands  that  in  both  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica there  should  be  a  select  few  devoted  to  the  worship  of 
the  Muses  and  capable  of  appreciating  the  harmonies  of 
Virgil  even  amid  the  deafening  whirl  of  modern  machinery. 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE 

I 

The  European  war,  which  has  already  devastated  so  much 
of  the  world  we  knew,  this  war  which  has  been  spoken  of 
for  years,  though  often  without  any  more  real  belief  in  its 
possibility  than  in  that  of  the  sun  being  extinguished  or  the 
earth  colliding  with  some  wandering  comet,  this  war  took 
but  a  week  to  become  a  grim  reality.  On  the  evening  of 
July  24th,  19 14,  Europe  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Ionian,  from 
the  Pyrenees  to  the  Ural  Mountains,  went  to  rest  never 
dreaming  but  that  the  next  day  would  dawn  as  usual,  bring- 
ing to  the  world,  like  its  predecessors  and  successors,  its 
wonted  burden  of  good  and  evil  and  then  vanishing  into  the 
abyss  of  time  with  nought  to  mark  it  from  its  fellows.  The 
German  Emperor  was  on  his  usual  summer  cruise  in  the 
North  Sea,  the  Emperor  of  Austria  was  taking  the  waters 
at  Ischl,  the  President  of  the  French  Republic  was  about 
to  leave  Russia  on  a  visit  to  the  Scandinavian  sovereigns. 
But  on  Saturday,  July  25th,  all  Europe  read  with  dismay 
the  threatening  words  addressed  to  the  Serbian  government 
by  the  Austrian  Minister  at  Belgrade  and  the  following  Sat- 
urday, August  ist,  Count  Pourtales,  the  German  ambassador 
at  Petrograd,  handed  the  declaration  of  war  to  the  Russian 
government.  How  did  this  come  about  ?  Whose  fault  was 
it?  What  was  its  object?  Even  now  after  three  years  the 
rapidity  with  which  in  one  short  week  the  imaginary  comet 
appeared,  grew  and  collided  with  us,  the  paralysed  stupefac- 
tion with  which  we  watched  its  approach,  seem  like  some 
hideous  dream. 

When  the  time  comes,  history  will  investigate  and  relate 

23 


24.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

everything  that  was  said,  thought  and  done  day  by  day  and 
hour  by  hour  at  the  courts  and  in  the  chancelleries  of  Europe 
during  that  fatal  week.  At  present  each  government 
strives  to  divulge  only  that  which  tends  to  throw  the  re- 
sponsibility for  this  appalling  catastrophe  on  to  the  shoulders 
of  other  governments.  There  is,  however,  one  point  as  to 
which  no  impartial  observer  can  be  in  doubt.  The  European 
war  broke  out  because  and  solely  because  Germany,  both 
her  people  and  her  government,  willed  it.  The  respective 
parts  played  by  people  and  government  matter  little.  What 
does  matter  is  the  fact  that  at  the  critical  moment  people 
and  government  agreed  to  fall  upon  their  two  powerful 
eastern  and  western  neighbours  who  asked  nothing  better 
than  to  be  left  in  peace.  Hence  we  are  faced  with  the  ques- 
tion, why  should  such  an  industrious  people,  professing  to 
be  actuated  by  the  same  moral  and  political  principles  as  its 
neighbours,  a  people  which  therefore  had  every  reason  to  de- 
sire peace  as  much  as  the  other  peoples  of  Europe,  have 
suddenly  been  seized  by  such  an  overwhelming  desire  to  go 
to  war  without  provocation  and  in  a  cause  that  only  con- 
cerned them  indirectly?  Does  this  people  despite  appear- 
ances differ  from  its  neighbours  ?  Is  it  in  reality  a  stranger 
in  that  Europe  in  the  very  heart  of  which  it  dwells  and 
multiplies  ? 

H  we  are  to  answer  this  question  aright  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  this  war  is  not  merely  a  war  but,  like  the  fall  of 
the  Western  Empire,  the  advent  of  Christianity,  and  the 
French  Revolution,  an  historic  cataclysm.  Hence  if  the 
accidents  which  immediately  brought  it  about  are  of  recent 
origin,  its  real  underlying  causes  must  be  sought  in  the  re- 
mote past ;  they  date  back  to  that  immense  upheaval  of  which 
the  French  Revolution  itself  was  but  an  episode,  that  up- 
heaval which  for  two  centuries  has  been  undermining  the 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        25 

principles  on  which  the  social  order  had  rested  since  the 
beginning  of  history. 

Bygone  centuries  had  said  to  Man,  every  new  thing,  just 
because  it  is  new,  must  be  regarded  as  worse  than  its  prede- 
cessors, and  consequently  every  old  thing  must  be  held 
sacred.  One  century,  the  nineteenth,  ventured  to  reverse 
this  principle  and  to  proclaim  in  the  name  of  progress  that 
the  new,  just  because  it  was  new,  should  be  preferred  to 
that  which  was  already  in  existence  and  that  it  was  the  duty 
of  each  generation  to  give  new  lamps  for  old  as  frequently 
as  possible.  The  bygone  centuries  had  told  Man  that  mod- 
eration of  desire,  simplicity  of  life  and  frugality  were  the 
supreme  virtues.  The  nineteenth  century  reversed  this  be- 
lief also,  deeming  it  a  virtue  to  earn  and  spend  lavishly  and 
to  multiply  its  desires,  needs  and  aspirations.  For  cen- 
turies and  centuries  Man  had  been  told  that  he  was  born  into 
the  world  in  order  to  submit  to  authority  both  human  and 
divine;  the  nineteenth  century  proclaimed,  on  the  contrary, 
that  he  was  born  in  order  to  live  in  liberty  and  to  exercise 
his  faculties  freely  and  that,  in  consequence,  it  was  his  duty 
to  inquire  into  the  reasons  for  the  authority  to  which  he 
was  asked  to  submit.  This  was  perforce  the  result  of  that 
great  movement  of  peoples,  classes,  ideas  and  aspirations 
which  after  the  discovery  of  America  impelled  Europe  first, 
and  then  both  Europe  and  America  to  conquer  the  earth, 
that  reversal  of  principles  by  which  what  was  bad  has  either 
become  or  was  in  process  of  becoming  good,  and  what  was 
good  either  has  become  or  is  in  process  of  becoming  bad, 
inevitably  engendering  universal  unrest  in  the  life  of  the 
world,  an  unrest  far  more  widespread  than  that  caused  by 
Christianity,  which  had  also,  though  by  another  process,  re- 
versed so  many  of  the  social  principles  of  the  ancients,  an 
unrest  whose  causes  escape  most  observers,  but  is  none  the 


26        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

less  making  itself  felt  everywhere  in  the  world  today. 
Whether  the  new  principles  of  liberty  and  progress  can 
ever  succeed  in  uprooting  and  suppressing  wholly  and  for 
ever  the  ancient  principle  of  authority  and  tradition,  or 
whether  a  longer  time  than  has  yet  elapsed  is  requisite  for 
its  uprooting  and  annihilation,  the  fact  remains  that  in 
nearly  every  European  country  the  new  principle  has  only 
achieved  a  partial  triumph  and  the  old  principle  still  holds 
partial  sway.  Consequently  in  all  modern  European  coun- 
tries we  find  a  lack  of  internal  harmony  which  is  both 
disturbing  and  constant,  but  varies  in  degree,  since  authority 
and  tradition  have  not  yet  yielded  or  been  forced  to  yield 
to  the  same  extent  all  over  Europe.  One  nation  is  con- 
servative and  clings  to  tradition  in  those  very  things  in 
which  another  is  striving  eagerly  after  progress,  innovation 
and  vice  versa. 

II 

If  from  this  point  of  view  we  compare  the  three  principal 

European  Powers  we  shall  perhaps  understand  why  France 
and  England  desired  peace  and  why  Germany  on  the  con- 
trary forced  war  upon  them  as  she  has  forced  it  on  the  whole 
world.  To  the  great  upheaval  of  ideas  and  principles  which 
brought  forth  modern  civilization  France  contributed  her 
share,  and  what  a  share!  the  Revolution.  To  the  prin- 
ciple of  authority,  which  for  so  many  centuries  held  sway 
in  every  State,  the  French  Revolution  opposed  the  principle 
of  liberty.  For  this  reason  France  is  undoubtedly  the 
European  nation  in  which  the  new  principle  of  liberty  has 
succeeded  in  establishing  its  ascendancy  in  politics  to  a 
greater  extent  than  in  any  other  country  and  is  perhaps  the 
only  one  in  which  the  State,  stripped  of  its  outward  show, 
the  mystic  pomp  and  ceremony  of  bygone  ages,  is  revealed 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        27 

to  man  in  its  naked  reality  as  a  creation  of  reason  pure  and 
simple,  intended  for  the  service  of  those  who  are  subject 
to  it  and  in  which  authority  instead  of  coming  from  above 
emanates  from  those  who  are  bound  to  obey  it.  Thus  un- 
trammelled public  opinion  holds  absolute  sway  over  the  Re- 
public, a  state  of  things  of  which  the  bare  suggestion  w^ould 
have  seemed  mad  or  impious  three  centuries  ago.  But 
apart  from  the  State  and  political  doctrines  there  is  perhaps 
no  nation  in  Europe  in  which  the  ancient  spirit,  respect  for 
tradition,  sense  of  moderation  and  recognition  of  authority 
is  as  strong  as  in  France.  Many  look  on  France  as  behind 
the  times  because  in  that  country  old  traditions  hold  their 
own  more  successfully  against  the  encroachments  of  mod- 
ernism than  they  succeed  in  doing  elsewhere,  always  pro- 
vided that  it  is  not  a  question  of  political  theories.  Even 
the  rich  live  modestly  and  simply,  at  least  in  proportion  to 
their  ample  means;  they  practise  economy,  a  virtue  w^hich 
has  fallen  into  disuse;  they  are  slow  to  change  the  sacred 
habits  of  everyday  life,  and  family  feeling  is  very  strong  in 
them.  The  mania  for  novelty  in  philosophy,  art  and  science 
is  not  widespread,  as  among  the  cultured  classes  of  other 
countries.  After  the  Revolution  France,  and  this  is  by  no 
means  the  least  of  her  merits,  did  not  give  birth  to  many 
fresh  systems  of  philosophy  or  wax  enthusiastic  over  those 
brought  forth  in  such  numbers  by  Germany.  Today  France 
is  perhaps  the  only  nation  which  does  not  demand  novelty 
in  art  at  any  cost  or  refuse  to  recognize  the  authority  of 
the  old  criteria. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  that  a  rich,  powerful,  and 
highly  educated  people  endowed  with  a  sense  of  moderation, 
and  not  easily  deceived  by  specious  theories  into  a  craving 
after  the  impossible,  a  nation  in  which  public  opinion  rules 
the  State,  would  naturally  desire  peace.     France  was  con- 


S8       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tented  with  her  lot  and  did  not  hanker  for  the  impossible. 
Why  should  she  expose  her  fertile  fields  to  the  terrible 
scourge  of  war?  The  masses  when  they  can  follow  their 
natural  inclinations  prefer  peace  to  war.  France  has  so 
earnestly  desired  peace  that  more  than  one  of  her  neigh- 
bours, perhaps  the  enemy  himself,  had  concluded  that  she 
had  become  effeminate. 

When  we  pass  to  England  we  find  another  contradiction. 
England  too  had  played  her  part  in  the  recent  upheaval  of 
the  world.  The  industrial  revolution,  without  which  the 
political  revolution  would  have  had  much  less  effect  on  the 
old  order  of  things,  was  pre-eminently  her  work.  When 
man  possessed  only  such  instruments,  mostly  of  wood,  as 
could  be  set  in  motion  by  his  own  hand,  or  by  the  muscles 
of  some  domestic  animal,  he  was  able,  it  is  true,  to  make 
beautiful  objects,  but  only  in  limited  numbers,  and  was 
therefore  forced  to  look  upon  parsimony  as  a  virtue  and  on 
prodigality  as  a  vice.  When,  however,  man  succeeded  in 
inventing  machinery  set  in  motion  by  steam,  and  in  manu- 
facturing an  unlimited  number  of  objects,  though  possibly 
of  inferior  quality,  he  no  longer  sought  after  beauty  and 
good  workmanship,  but  after  quantity  and  variety.  Other- 
wise what  was  the  use  of  turning  out  so  many?  The  more 
rapidly  man  worked,  the  more  he  multiplied  his  needs,  the 
more  perfect  was  he  considered. 

England,  having  inaugurated  the  industrial  revolution, 
was  bound  to  do  as  she  has  done  and  bring  into  discredit 
patriarchal  habits,  family  traditions,  simplicity  and  economy 
more  than  any  other  nation.  It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  in 
private  life  the  Englishman,  who  is  a  sort  of  Bohemian, 
bound  by  no  close  ties  to  his  environment,  will  leave  his 
home,  his  family  and  change  his  whole  manner  of  living 
in  obedience  to  the  exigencies  of  his  work.     But  this  ap- 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        29 

parent  instability  rests  on  an  unshakable  foundation  of  po- 
litical and  intellectual  traditions.  There  are  no  people  more 
slow  to  change  its  opinions,  methods,  principles,  tastes  and 
convictions  in  matters  of  art,  science,  religion,  philosophy 
and,  even  to  a  certain  extent,  in  politics.  The  Germans 
accuse  England  of  having  desired  and  provoked  the  war, 
wherein  they  show  great  ingratitude  towards  the  nation 
which  has  done  ever}'thing  in  its  power  to  make  it  easy  for 
them  to  make  a  surprise  attack  on  Europe.  Not  only  did 
England  not  desire  the  war,  but  she  did  not  even  believe  it 
to  be  a  possibility,  in  spite  of  the  repeated  warnings  of  far- 
sighted  men,  for  she  had  never  beheld  such  a  cyclone  and 
war  would  have  been  too  disturbing  to  both  her  business 
and  her  pleasure.  Consequently  she  had  made  no  prepara- 
tions for  war;  she  had  neither  AHies,  army  nor  funds;  she 
hesitated  up  to  the  last  moment,  up  to  the  moment  when 
the  German  soldiers  had  crossed  the  Belgian  frontier,  and 
for  many  months  after  the  outbreak  of  the  conflict  she 
failed  to  realize  the  magnitude  of  the  ordeal  before  her. 

In  Germany  too  we  find  a  contradiction,  different  again 
from  that  observed  in  France  and  England.  Every  one 
knows  the  power  still  possessed  by  "the  mystic  principle  of 
authority  in  Germany  even  in  the  twentieth  century.  God 
still  governs  the  Germans,  who  are  consequently  under  the 
impression  that  they  are  the  apple  of  His  eye.  .We  con- 
stantly hear  it  said  that  Germany  is  a  survival  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  This  is  false  if  we  judge  by  the  forms  of  govern- 
ment which  wear  a  modern  dress,  but  true  if  we  judge  by 
their  spirit.  Where  except  in  Germany  could  wx  find  wor- 
ship of  royal  power  and  of  all  authority  emanating  from  the 
State,  the  spirit  of  the  seventeenth  century  transported  to 
the  twentieth,  become  more  fervid  and  sincere  because 
it   is   tempered   by  a   certain  spirit  of   liberty  and   criti- 


30        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

cism,  more  universal  and  imperative  because  it  is  taught  and 
inculcated  by  an  admirably  organized  and  omnipresent 
State?  The  absolute  monarchies  which  existed  before  the 
Revolution  were  much  more  venerated  than  actually  obeyed, 
as  is  the  case  today  with  the  authority  of  the  State  in  Russia 
and  Turkey.  In  Germany,  by  applying  forcibly  and  with 
modern  methods  the  old  principles  of  monarchial  rule,  the 
State  has  succeeded  in  making  itself  respected  and  obeyed 
to  such  an  extent  that  at  the  outbreak  of  war  the  German 
State  was  undoubtedly  the  strongest  in  Europe,  the  one  that 
had  least  reason  to  fear  the  opposition,  ill  will  and  indiffer- 
ence of  its  subjects. 

But  what  anarchy  in  customs,  tastes,  aspirations,  criteria 
and  ideas  counterbalance  this  power  of  the  State  in  modern 
Germany !  There  is  no  people  among  whom  the  old  tradi- 
tions of  simplicity  and  frugality  have  given  place  to  a 
more  frantic  craving  for  riches  and  luxury.  No  other 
nation  has  placed  the  duty  of  earning  and  spending,  working 
and  enjoying  up  to  the  very  last  moment,  on  a  level  with  the 
heroic  virtues.  No  other  nation  has  prided  itself  to  such  a 
degree  on  setting  aside,  both  in  theory  and  practice,  the 
bounds  respected  by  man  throughout  the  ages,  and  this  ap- 
plies not  merely  to  the  bounds  set  by  tradition  and  authority 
but  also  to  those  dictated  by  common  sense,  ethical  law  and 
decency.  We  have  all  heard  ad  nauseam  of  German  kultur, 
that  system  of  science  and  philosophy  which  since  the  French 
Revolution  has  found  so  many  followers  among  both 
adolescent  and  decadent  nations,  and  of  which  unfortunately 
the  Italian  universities  of  the  present  day  are  the  most  ser- 
vile worshippers  in  Europe.  But  wherein  does  this  kultur 
differ  from  earlier  or  co-existent  systems  of  learning? 
Herein,  that  too  often  through  arrogance,  lack  of  experi- 
ence, or  some  similar  defect,  it  wholly  fails  to  distinguish 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        31 

the  point  at  which  it  must  stop  short  in  research,  because  if 
it  attempts  to  transcend  that  point  it  is  thrown  back  upon 
itself  and  hurled  into  the  sophistic  void.  Many  even  now 
raise  their  eyes  to  Heaven  and  exclaim,  "  Who  would  have 
thought  it  of  Germany?  Who  would  have  imagined  that 
she  was  capable  of  such  deeds,  that  she  could  set  such  an 
example  ?  A  country  with  so  many  philosophers  and  schol- 
ars, a  country  so  full  of  education  and  learning.  "  But  do 
you  really  believe,  with  scholars  and  philosophers,  that  wis- 
dom and  science  are  incorruptible  possessions,  the  very  es- 
sence of  progress,  a  ray  of  that  divine  light  which  purifies, 
revivifies  and  sheds  joy  wherever  it  shines?  No,  even  sci- 
ence and  wisdom,  the  works  of  man,  are  subject  to  all  the 
perversions  and  corruptions  of  humanity;  they  too  may  err 
and  lose  their  way,  more  especially  if  they  claim  to  transcend 
certain  bounds  of  knowledge,  which  are  never  laid  down  by 
science  herself  but  by  humility,  common  sense,  and  by  what 
I  might  term  a  certain  "  human  instinct "  which  the  scholar 
ought  to  possess  both  with  regard  to  himself  and  exterior 
things.  This  "  human  instinct  "  is,  however,  just  what  is 
lacking  in  German  kultur.  Impelled  by  frenzied  pride  to 
seek  its  starting  point  in  itself  alone,  eager  to  set  up  fresh 
systems  of  morals,  art,  religion  and  philosophy,  the  German 
intellect  has  for  the  last  century  been  accomplishing  Her- 
culean labours,  with  the  result  that  it  has  too  often  succeeded 
but  only  in  complicating  simple  questions,  obscuring  simple 
issues,  setting  insoluble  problems,  clouding  the  moral  con- 
science and  ruining  the  artistic  taste  of  the  world. 


HI 

How  many  examples  I  could  give !     I  will,  however,  name 
but  one,  taken  from  the  branch  of  study  with  which  I  am 


32        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

most  familiar  —  an  example  which  will  hardly  appear  cred- 
ible when  man  has  succeeded  in  freeing  himself  from  this 
malady  —  the  Homeric  problem.  The  Iliad  and  the  Odys- 
sey are,  as  every  one  knows,  the  two  great  monuments  of 
poetry  which  stand  on  either  side  of  the  portals  of  history. 
They  mark  the  starting  point  of  European  literature.  It 
is  therefore  not  surprising  that  in  every  age  they  have  been 
subjects  for  diligent  study  and  research.  But  however 
great  the  liberties  critics  have  been  in  the  habit  of  taking 
in  their  interpretation  and  comments  upon  the  masterpieces 
of  long  dead  writers,  they  had  for  centuries  respected  at 
least  two  boundary  lines  when  treating  of  these  two  vener- 
able pillars  of  literature.  One  of  these  lines  of  demarcation 
was  the  tradition  according  to  which  in  the  eighth  century 
B.  C.  a  poet  had  flourished,  named  Homer,  who  had  written 
two  poems  and  of  whose  life  a  more  or  less  accurate  ac- 
count was  given.  Although  this  tradition  was  defective 
and  incomplete  and  its  details  did  not  agree,  it  had  been 
respected  for  centuries,  simply  because  it  was  recognized 
that  the  ancients  were  more  likely  than  ourselves  to  know 
when  and  by  whom  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  were  written, 
and  that  even  if  they  had  forgotten  the  name  of  the  real 
author  it  was  hardly  likely  that  we  should  succeed  in  re- 
calling it.  The  other  limit  was  still  more  modest,  since  it 
was  set  up  by  the  common  sense  which  says  that,  just  as 
every  son  must  of  necessity  have  a  father,  every  book  must 
have  an  author,  and  that  if  every  book  we  possess  was 
written  by  some  poor  devil  who  one  fine  day  took  it  into  his 
head  to  dip  his  pen  into  ink  and  sit  down  to  write  the  first 
word  of  his  book,  not  giving  up  his  task  until  he  had  written 
Finis  on  the  last  page,  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  must  have 
been  written  in  the  same  way.  While  tradition  and  these 
considerations  of  common  sense  did  not  of  course  satisfy 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        33 

our  thirst  for  knowledge,  they  were  for  centuries  regarded 
as  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  beyond  which  curiosity  did  not 
venture  to  pass  until  German  learning  appeared  upon  the 
scenes.  German  scholarship  knew  no  such  hesitation,  and 
the  inevitable  punishment  followed,  for  instead  of  drawing 
fresh  vigour  from  this  living  source  of  poetry  German 
savants  racked  their  brains  over  the  impossible  task  of  trying 
to  reconstruct  the  history  of  a  work  about  which  we  possess 
no  data.  They  discussed  and  waxed  hot  over  the  wildest  of 
theories ;  they  studied  and  wrote  much  without  reaching  any 
conclusion,  until  one  fine  day  some  wiseacre  laid  his  clumsy 
hands  on  the  immortal  masterpiece  and  pulled  it  to  pieces 
in  order  to  reconstruct  out  of  the  fragments  the  Ur-Ilias, 
the  true  Iliad,  *'  made  in  Germany.  " 

IV 

We  might  cite  other  examples  from  Roman  history  in 
which  the  extraordinary  theories  of  German  critics  have 
even  been  improved  upon  by  admiring  Italians,  as  also  from 
other  branches  of  learning,  had  we  time  to  go  thoroughly 
into  all  departments  of  German  kultur.  In  short,  this  knltur 
fails  to  recognize  legitimate  bounds  and  is  consequently  lack- 
ing in  order  and  discipline;  it  cannot  distinguish  degrees  of 
importance  and  consequently  makes  the  most  grotesque  mis- 
takes. It  is  at  the  same  time  arrogant  and  absurdly  naif, 
and  has  in  consequence  brought  about  untold  confusion  in 
every  country,  and  more  particularly  in  Italy,  which  failed 
to  distinguish  between  sound  and  harmful  principles.  The 
real  cause  of  the  war  must  be  sought  in  the  want  of  balance 
which  makes  it  possible  for  the  strictest  political  discipline 
to  exist  side  by  side  with  an  utter  lack  of  intellectual  dis- 
cipline in  the  same  mid-European  nation.     This  disparity 


34.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

between  the  intellectual  anarchy  and  the  political  discipline 
of  Germany  has  given  birth  to  the  cyclone  which  is  devas- 
tating Europe.  How  and  why  it  is  not  difficult  to  under- 
stand. Theories  are  powerless  to  hold  the  passions  in 
check,  unless  they  are  fused  into  a  system  and  rest  upon 
some  solid  foundation,  some  tradition,  authority  or  recog- 
nized principle,  of  which  the  truth  is  felt  and  respected  by 
the  world  at  large,  li  these  bases  and  supports  are  lacking, 
if  thought  insists  upon  being,  as  it  were,  its  own  jumping 
off  place  and  on  formulating  afresh  each  day  the  axioms 
from  which  it  proposes  to  start  on  its  task  of  reconstructing 
the  world  from  top  to  bottom,  beauty,  truth  and  morals  will 
necessarily  cease  to  be  anything  but  a  noisy  game  of  soph- 
isms in  which  each  player,  by  an  arbitrary  change  of  prin- 
ciples, is  at  liberty  to  uphold  the  most  contradictory  theories 
—  a  game  in  which  the  final  victory  is  won  by  those  theories 
which  are  most  flattering  to  the  dominant  passions.  Ideas 
will  not  act  as  brakes,  but  rather  as  spurs  to  the  ruling 
passions.  This  has  been  the  work  of  literature  and  philos- 
ophy in  every  epoch  of  intellectual  anarchy;  this  is  what  has 
been  accomplished  in  Germany  during  the  last  four  decades 
by  history,  philosophy  and  literature  —  the  so-called  political 
sciences  —  in  proportion  as  pride  in  victor}^  and  power  was 
fostered  by  the  growth  of  the  population  and  by  the  new 
wealth  so  easily  obtained  from  a  soil  rich  in  coal  and  iron. 
German  kultiirj  science,  philosophy  and  literature,  which 
were  weak  because  they  were  unfettered,  and  regulated 
neither  by  principles,  traditions  or  authority  of  any  kind 
and,  therefore,  in  their  turn  powerless  to  exercise  any  intel- 
lectual authority,  had  placed  themselves  at  the  service  of 
those  passions,  whether  good  or  bad,  which  they  were  un- 
able to  correct  or  hold  in  check,  such  as  patriotism,  the  spirit 
of  discipline  and  unity,  respect  for  the  sovereign  and  the 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        35 

State,  cupidity,  national  vanity  and  arrogance  and  what  is 
barbarously  called  ''  arrivisme.  "  These  sciences  thus  en- 
couraged and  accentuated  all  the  tendencies  of  public  opin- 
ion, entirely  failing  to  distinguish  between  the  good  and 
the  bad,  the  beneficial  and  the  dangerous.  Above  all,  they 
stimulated  the  mania  for  confounding  the  great  with  the 
merely  colossal,  quantity  with  quality,  and  for  regarding  the 
German  people  as  the  salt  of  the  earth  and  the  model  for 
all  the  world  to  copy.  They  inflamed  the  pride  of  the 
masses  and  added  fuel  to  that  craze  for  persecution  which 
is  always  the  inseparable  companion  and  the  immediate 
chastisement  of  overbearing  pride,  with  the  result  that  we 
have  seen  re-enacted  in  central  Europe  the  terrible  tragedy  of 
Nineveh  and  Babylon.  We  behold  the  appalling  phenome- 
non of  not  merely  a  king  but  a  whole  nation  growing  in 
wealth,  power  and  prestige  to  such  a  degree  as  to  call  forth 
the  half  fearful  admiration  of  all  Europe  and  America,  but 
becoming  at  the  same  time  more  and  more  restless,  discon- 
tented, suspicious  and  querulously  complaining  that  the 
other  nations  fail  to  pay  it  due  respect,  that  its  power  is  not 
feared  as  it  should  be,  that  its  merits  are  unrecognized  and 
its  possessions  threatened  on  every  hand  by  disloyal  and 
envious  enemies.  Then  one  fine  day  this  strange  people, 
at  the  zenith  of  its  power  and  riches,  this  people  living  in 
a  Europe  which  shudders  at  the  very  idea  of  seeing  the 
sword  of  1870  once  more  unsheathed,  this  people  which 
alone  in  Europe  could  have  enjoyed  the  blessings  of  peace 
in  perfect  safety,  since  it  was  feared  by  all  while  fearing 
none,  this  people  suddenly  threw^  down  its  gauntlet  to  the 
world  apropos  of  a  question  which  in  no  way  concerned  it 
and  challenged  five  countries,  including  the  three  greatest 
Powers,  to  a  life  and  death  combat,  and  after  this  mad 
challenge  set  forth  to  battle  and  death  at  its  Emperor's  com- 


36        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

mand,  as  one  man,  in  meek  submission  to  a  State  which, 
unfortunately  for  the  world,  exercises  far  too  much  author- 
ity over  its  subjects.  The  European  war  would  not  have 
broken  out  had  the  German  people  been  wiser  or  the  govern- 
ment weaker.  The  catastrophe  was  brought  about  by  polit- 
ical discipline  and  intellectual  disorder.  Thus  a  govern- 
ment which  was  strong,  respected  and  w^ell  tempered  against 
the  blows  of  fate,  served  by  intelligent  men  and  provided 
with  both  money  and  means,  has  become  the  tool  of  the  most 
unbridled  imagination  and  ambition  in  an  enterprise  in  which 
the  most  the  German  people  can  hope  is  that  it  may  make  its 
fall  memorable  throughout  the  ages  by  dragging  down  the 
whole  world  with  it  into  the  abyss  and  by  burying  the 
power,  which  it  had  sacrificed  in  a  moment  of  madness, 
beneath  the  debris  of  a  civilization  w^hich  w^as  prosperous 
and  flourishing  only  three  short  years  ago,  but  whose  state 
in  another  year  or  two  no  man  can  foretell. 


No  other  end  to  the  tragedy  seems  within  the  bounds  of 
possibility.  The  future  is  of  course  on  the  knees  of  the 
gods  and  no  one  would  venture  to  predict  how  or  when  a 
settlement  will  be  reached;  on  the  other  hand,  no  one  en- 
dowed with  any  historic  sense  can  fail  to  see  that  the  Ger- 
mans, at  all  events  at  this  stage  of  their  history,  are  lacking 
in  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  qualities  requisite  for  the 
foundation  of  great  and  powder ful  Empires.  A  durable 
Empire  cannot  be  built  up  upon  valour,  unity,  passionate 
or  even  fanatic  love  of  country  alone;  common  sense,  a 
clear  intuition  of  w^hat  is  or  what  is  not  possible,  and  a  sense 
of  proportion  are  equally  essential,  and  in  these  qualities  the 
modern  German  is  conspicuously  lacking.     Indeed,  unless 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        37 

some  unforeseen  miracle  were  to  take  place,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  as  to  the  issue.  Both  sides  being  equally  tenacious, 
the  victory  will  fall  to  the  one  who  has  the  largest  means 
at  his  disposal  and  knows  how  to  make  the  best  use  of  them. 
Hence  the  war  will  be  won  by  that  coalition  which  can  put 
the  largest  number  of  men  into  the  field,  whose  purse  is 
longest,  which  rules  the  seas  and  numbers  among  its  mem- 
bers two  peoples  at  least,  the  French  and  the  British,  en- 
dowed with  that  political  sense,  that  sense  of  proportion, 
which  alone  in  a  war  like  the  present  conflict  is  worth  an 
army  corps.  Do  not  let  us  lay  too  much  stress  upon  the 
fact  that  the  Germans  are  fighting  on  foreign  soil.  Na- 
poleon was  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  in  war  nothing  has 
been  accomplished  until  everything  has  been  accomplished, 
a  fact  proved  by  his  own  experience  in  1812.  The  disaster 
of  1 81 2  did  not  take  place  at  Lodz  or  on  the  Narev,  but 
when  he  had  reached  AIoscow  itself. 

VI 

Moreover,  even  were  the  military  situation  less  favourable 
than  is  actually  the  case,  we  should  be  forced  to  believe  that 
the  war  could  have  no  other  end.  It  might  even  be  said 
that  it  is  essential  that  it  should  end  thus,  if  Europe  is  one 
day  to  enjoy  a  long  peace,  untroubled  by  continual  panics 
and  unmenaced  by  obscure  ambitions.  Do  not  let  us  deceive 
ourselves  —  Europe  will  never  enjoy  such  a  peace  if  the 
German  spirit  is  permitted  to  continue  to  play,  what  for  the 
last  century  has  appeared  to  be  its  special  role  in  the  world 
—  to  play  it,  moreover,  more  brutally,  intoxicated  as  it 
w^ould  be  with  the  fumes  of  victory.  It  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  German  people  possesses  various  great  qualities; 
neither,  however,  can  we  deny  that  it  has  frequently  made 


88       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

use  of  these  qualities  in  a  way  most  dangerous  to  its  neigh- 
bours by  borrowing  from  its  neighbours  certain  principles 
of  civilization  originated  by  them  and  then  exaggerating 
them  to  such  a  degree  as  to  turn  them  into  perils.  Take  mili- 
tary service,  for  instance.  The  duty  of  each  citizen  to  bear 
arms  for  his  cotmtry  was  a  principle  of  the  ancients  which 
the  French  Revolution  had  revived  and  applied  with  wisdom 
and  discretion.  But  the  Germans,  by  reducing  the  term  of 
service  and  increasing  the  number  of  soldiers  as  much  as 
possible,  created  and  forced  upon  Europe  the  modern  army, 
which  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  nation  in  arms,  the 
enormous,  slow  and  costly  army  which  has  made  war  a 
calamity  in  comparison  with  which  all  the  other  scourges 
which  have  afflicted  mankind  have  been  nothing  more  than 
trifling  annoyances.  Modern  industry,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  aims  at  increasing  quantity  to  the  detriment  of  quality. 
At  the  same  time  France  and  Great  Britain  had  applied  this 
principle  in  moderation.  Germany  arrives  upon  the  scenes 
and  what  does  she  proceed  to  do?  What  are  the  shoddy 
goods  made  in  Germany  of  which  we  hear  so  much  but  the 
exaggeration  of  this  principle?  Germany  put  it  into  prac- 
tice to  such  an  extent  as  to  flood  the  world  with  all  sorts  of 
inferior  imitations.  No  social  order  can  exist  without  the 
use  of  a  certain  amount  of  force.  Force  is  therefore  up  to 
a  certain  point  a  factor  for  good  and  an  element  making  for 
progress.  Every  nation  and  every  era  has  recognized  this 
principle,  which  has  only  been  rejected  by  a  few  dreamers. 
But  from  this  elementary,  simple  and  vital  truth,  the  Ger- 
mans have  contrived  to  extract  the  theories  of  Clausewitz, 
Nietzsche,  and  Bernhardi,  and  the  arbitrary  maxims  of  Bis- 
marck, the  evil  genius  of  European  statesmen  for  the  last 
forty  years,  and  even  the  European  war  with  its  carnage, 
destruction  by  fire,  devastation  and  deliberate  purpose  of 


ANARCHY,  LIBERTY  AND  DISCIPLINE        39 

recognizing  no  law  or  criteria  of  conduct  in  war.  Things 
have  gone  too  far.  Europe  must  once  more  be  ruled  by 
more  mature,  older  and  better  balanced  peoples.  Many  are 
of  opinion  that  the  war  will  continue  some  time  longer,  that 
a  Peace  Congress  will  then  be  held  and  a  treaty  signed,  after 
which  we  shall  take  up  life  where  we  left  it  that  fatal  morn- 
ing of  July  25,  1914,  on  which  we  read  Austria's  threat  to 
Serbia.  This  is,  alas,  an  illusion.  When  peace  has  been 
restored  and  we  try  to  take  up  once  more  the  life  we  led 
before  the  war,  we  shall  see  that  the  river  of  history  disap- 
peared that  day  into  an  abyss,  to  reappear  changed  in  both 
appearance  and  direction.  We  shall  not  be  able  to  go  back. 
Too  many  things  will  have  changed  irrevocably  or  will  have 
to  be  reconstructed  on  a  new  plan  if  all  these  rivers  of  blood 
are  not  to  have  flowed  in  vain  and  this  catastrophe  is  not 
to  be  the  beginning  of  a  new  and  better  order  of  things  but 
rather  of  a  ruin  still  more  terrible  than  that  on  which  we 
are  gazing  today.  These  things  cannot  be  reconstructed, 
this  ruin  cannot  be  avoided,  unless  Europe  returns  in  thought 
and  deed  to  that  moderation  which  she  had  lost  during  the 
last  fifty  years.  This  is  the  test  awaiting  our  generation  — 
the  test  which  will  show  us  what  we  are  capable  of  doing 
for  the  true  progress  of  the  world. 


THE  GREAT  AND  THE  COLOSSAL 

At  the  present  time,  when  the  future  looms  before  us  Hke 
some  unknown  pathless  wilderness,  it  is  w^ell  to  glance  from 
time  to  time  at  the  past  and  to  recall  the  links  of  language, 
culture,  manners  and  customs  binding  us  to  that  brilliant 
civilization  which  migrated  from  its  Greek  birthplace  into 
Italy  and  thence  in  a  Latinized  form  spread  over  the  greater 
part  of  Europe,  where  it  still  holds  sway.  If  we  would 
draw  strength  from  the  past  to  enable  us  to  fulfil  our  pres- 
ent duties  the  time  has  come  for  us  to  recall  the  most  striking 
characteristics  of  the  golden  age  of  Latin  civilization,  its 
heroic  striving  after  the  great  and  its  detestation  of  the 
merely  colossal. 

If  we  wander  among  the  columns  of  an  Egyptian  temple, 
or  the  ruins  of  the  immense  Persian,  Babylonian  or  As- 
syrian buildings,  the  Parthenon,  the  Temple  of  Concord  at 
Girgenti  and  the  other  masterpieces  of  Greek  architecture 
will  seem  small  and  insignificant  compared  to  the  colossal 
edifices,  gigantic  columns,  and  enormous  blocks  of  stone  in 
which  Oriental  pride  delighted.  Look  at  the  Iliad  and  the 
Odyssey,  they  are  but  small  volumes  compared  with  the 
Epics  of  the  East,  interminable  poems,  such  as  the  Ram- 
mayana  and  the  Shah  Nameh.  Each  of  the  four  Gospels 
contains  a  collection  of  the  words  and  deeds  of  Jesus,  but 
compare  one  of  them  with  the  discourses  of  Buddha.  A 
few  pages  were  enough  to  set  forth  a  doctrine  destined  to 
revolutionize  the  world,  whilst  volumes  of  perfectly  ap- 
palling dimensions  were  needed  in  the  f^r  East  to  found  a 
new  religion.  The  East  stands  for  bulk,  weight,  repetition 
and   prolixity;   Greeks    for   proportion,    harmony,    grace, 

40 


THE  GREAT  AND  THE  COLOSSAL  41 

lucidity  and  concision.  The  East  strove  after  the  colossal, 
Greece  after  the  great. 

The  difference  between  the  colossal  and  the  great  is  both 
intellectual  and  moral.  The  great  is  an  effort  to  attain  an 
ideal  creation  by  the  mind  of  man  and  to  conquer  an  essen- 
tially spiritual  difficulty  whose  law  is  within  ourselves.  The 
colossal  is  an  effort  to  triumph  over  matter  and  over  the 
difficulties  presented  by  matter  to  our  will  or  our  caprices 
—  or,  in  other  words  —  over  exterior  obstacles.  To  quote 
a  great  French  philosopher,  the  great  is  pure  quality,  where- 
as the  colossal  is  quality  with  a  large  admixture  of  quantity. 
Stern  intellectual  discipline  and  humility  are  absolutely  es- 
sential, not  only  for  the  creation  of  the  great  in  every 
sphere,  but  also  for  its  right  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion, since  an  ideal  of  perfection  must  be  accepted  as  law. 
The  colossal,  on  the  contrary,  is  one  of  the  myriad  forms 
of  human  vanity  and  is  readily  understood  and  admired  even 
by  minds  of  coarser  fibre,  wholly  devoid  of  education. 

Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  even  Greece  and  Rome 
after  having  achieved  the  truly  great,  during  the  most  bril- 
liant periods  of  their  history,  relapsed  into  the  craze  for  the 
colossal.  Go  to  Girgenti  and  close  to  the  Temple  of  Con- 
cord, which  is  at  once  so  small  and  so  great,  whose  incom- 
parable beauty  may  be  called  pure  quality,  you  will  see  the 
remains  of  a  colossal  Temple,  the  ruins  of  columns  which 
still  evoke  cries  of  amazement  from  barbarians  from  every 
part  of  the  world.  The  same  thing  is  even  more  noticeable 
in  Rome.  Compare  the  remains  of  the  Mausoleum  of 
Augustus  and  the  Mausoleum  of  Hadrian,  the  Pantheon  of 
Agrippa  and  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  the  latter  again  with 
the  Baths  of  Diocletian,  and  you  will  see  that  the  proportions 
of  the  buildings  increase  and  become  more  and  more  gigantic 
with  the  march  of  the  centuries.     Here  too  the  buildings 


42        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

teach  us,  in  letters  of  brick  and  stone,  the  history  of  thought 
and  feeling.  For  many  a  long  day  Rome  had  been  but  a 
modest  power,  she  distrusted  fortune,  she  dreaded  wealth 
and  luxury  and  often  shrank  from  circumstances  which 
urged  her  to  extend  her  Empire.  Her  aim  was  to  found  a 
great  Empire,  not  a  colossal  one  like  those  of  which  the  con- 
querors of  the  East  were  so  proud.  Ruled  as  she  was  by 
a  chosen  few  possessed  of  sufficient  authority  to  direct,  not 
merely  her  policy,  but  also  her  public  taste,  Rome  during 
this  period  succeeded  in  understanding  and  sometimes  even 
in  copying  in  both  art  and  literature  those  epochs  in  which 
Greece  had  attained  true  greatness.  Wealth,  success  and 
security  gradually  changed  the  Roman  soul;  those  who  for 
centuries  had  guided  public  taste  passed  away.  Oriental 
civilizations  took  possession  of  the  mind  of  the  masses  when 
they  were  left  to  their  own  devices.  The  Empire  fell  a  prey 
to  unbridled  vanity  and  to  a  craving  for  pleasure  and  ex- 
citement, and  with  this  vanity  and  craving  there  set  in  the 
mania  for  the  colossal. 

How  many  similar  examples  are  to  be  seen  in  the  history 
of  all  the  Latin  nations,  in  Spain,  France  and  Italy. 

Take  Venice,  go  down  to  the  Grand  Canal  and  compare 
the  modest  dimensions  of  the  palaces  built  by  the  makers 
of  the  Republic  wnth  those  of  more  recent  date,  constructed 
by  the  generations  who  light-heartedly  contributed  to  her 
decay.  Since  the  days  of  ancient  Greece,  life  has  been  one 
perpetual  struggle  between  the  principles  of  the  great  and 
the  colossal.  It  is  most  obvious  in  the  decorative  arts  in 
which  it  is  of  symbolic  value,  but  may  also  be  traced  in 
literature,  war  and  politics,  commerce  and  industry.  Al- 
ways and  everywhere  there  have  been  and  will  be  men, 
peoples  and  epochs  which  have  chosen  or  will  choose  to 
create  the  great,  and  others  which  have  chosen  or  will  choose 


THE  GREAT  AND  THE  COLOSSAL  43 

the  colossal.  Let  us  look  around ;  is  not  this  the  key  to  the 
present  tremendous  crisis  in  the  history  of  the  world? 

When  the  present  generation  has  passed  away  and  with 
it  the  passion  of  feeling  that  now  runs  so  high,  when  his- 
torians come  to  study  the  history  of  the  European  war  from 
the  archives  of  the  past,  just  as  geologists  study  the  phenom- 
ena of  a  volcanic  eruption  by  driving  their  pickaxes  into 
the  cold  lava,  they  will  find  the  whole  cataclysm  difficult 
to  understand.  *'  Why,  "  they  will  ask,  "  should  a  rich, 
prosperous  people,  at  the  zenith  of  its  power  have  risked 
everything  by  provoking  a  wholly  needless  war  with  the 
three  greatest  European  powers?  A  war  which  ended  by 
arraying  practically  the  whole  civilized  world  against  it." 

Here  in  a  few  words  we  have  the  riddle  which  is  per- 
plexing many  troubled  minds  today.  Greece  and  Rome 
however  should  be  able  to  supply  the  answer  and  enable  us 
to  read  aright  the  mystery  of  this  people  and  of  its  challenge 
to  the  world. 

This  nation,  more  than  any  other  European  nation,  has 
been  carried  away  by  its  passion  for  the  colossal  —  a  passion 
which  it  must  be  remembered  is  but  a  somewhat  coarse  form 
of  vanity,  for  the  ultimate  cause  of  this  appalling  catas- 
trophe is  to  be  found  in  the  overweening  vanity  of  a 
nation  —  a  vanity  which  is  characteristic  of  our  century. 
Paris,  that  intellectual  capital  of  the  world,  whose  finger  is 
on  the  pulse  of  civilization  and  its  supreme  problems,  asked 
herself,  when  confronted  by  the  terrible  outbreak  of  violence 
which  is  devastating  Europe,  whether  man,  as  he  grows 
richer,  more  learned  and  more  powerful,  does  not  also  tend 
to  deteriorate  morally. 

It  cannot,  however,  be  questioned  that  our  epoch  has 
made  great  strides  in  moral  education.  Our  civilization, 
which  for  two  centuries  has  been  engaged  in  a  great  Strug- 


44.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

gle  with  nature  for  the  possession  of  her  treasures  and 
forces,  has  been  successful  in  vanquishing  the  vices  and 
inculcating  the  virtues  which  could  hamper  further  these 
efforts.  It  has,  above  all,  fought  against  idleness  and  taught 
men  that  accuracy,  punctuality,  zeal  in  the  discharge  of 
duty,  the  spirit  of  solidarity  in  groups  great  and  small  which 
have  to  work  together.  That  cohesion  of  which  the  bel- 
ligerent nations  afford  such  striking  examples  today  show 
to  how  great  an  extent  this  spirit  has  spread  among  the 
masses.  No  such  phenomenon  has  been  seen  in  any  other 
age  —  a  proof  that  our  epoch  has  made  for  moral  progress. 
How,  then,  does  it  come  about  that  this  very  epoch  has  been 
overwhelmed  by  this  barbarous  mania  for  destruction  and 
violence?  The  explanation  is  that  in  its  absorption  in  the 
task  of  turning  out  disciplined  workers  it  has  forgotten  that 
other  passions  left  unchecked  may  modify  the  moral  sense 
of  the  masses;  this  applies  especially  to  vanity,  of  which 
the  mania  for  the  colossal  is  one  of  the  most  monstrous 
forms.  In  the  early  days  of  the  struggle  between  nature 
and  civilization,  civilization  created  great  things  in  great 
humility.  With  the  increase  of  wealth,  success  and  power, 
however,  civilization  fell  a  prey  to  vanity  and  aimed  at 
creating  the  colossal  for  which  the  necessary  means  were 
unfortunately  forthcoming.  The  Empires  of  antiquity  were 
filled  with  pride  when  they  succeeded  in  raising  some  monu- 
ment of  brick  or  stone  or  proportions  hitherto  unheard  of. 
But  what  were  their  cities,  armies,  fleets  and  buildings  in 
comparison  to  those  of  the  present  day?  What  were  their 
industry  and  commerce  in  comparison  to  ours?  During 
the  last  fifty  years  the  mania  for  the  colossal  has  infected 
all  the  nations  of  Europe  and  America  to  a  greater  or  lesser 
extent  and,  unfortunately,  one  of  these  nations  has  been 
completely  carried  away  by  it.     Nature  seems  to  have  en- 


THE  GREAT  AND  THE  COLOSSAL  45 

dowed  this  people  with  an  unbounded  energy  which  makes 
it  readily  lean  to  excess.  Although  during  the  last  century 
it  has  produced  many  philologists  and  archeologists,  it  has 
never  really  come  under  the  influence  of  Latin  culture. 
That  sense  of  proportion,  that  sense  of  moderation  and 
that  lucidity,  which  are  the  essential  characteristics  of  Latin 
culture,  have  always  repelled  it;  it  has  at  bottom  a  sort 
of  spurious  and  apparently  invincible  mysticism  which 
drives  it  to  seek  the  infinite  in  the  vague,  the  confused  and 
the  indefinite.  It  has  been  victorious  in  two  wars,  it  was 
rich  in  iron  and  coal,  an  inestimable  advantage  in  a  century 
in  which  iron  has  ceased  to  be  the  servant  of  man  and  has 
become  the  master  of  the  world.  In  short,  this  nation  ended 
by  regarding  itself  as  the  chosen  people,  the  salt  of  the 
earth,  the  model  for  the  whole  world,  and  by  using  the  word 
"  colossal  "  to  express  the  highest  degree  of  perfection.  It 
was,  however,  not  long  before  it  became  as  insatiable,  rest- 
less, suspicious  and  jealous  as  all  those  eaten  up  by  vanity 
who  cherish  dreams  of  the  colossal.  How,  indeed,  could 
a  people  or  a  period,  whose  one  and  only  aim  was  to  "  go 
one  better  "  in  everything  than  any  other  people  or  period, 
be  either  happy  or  content?  One  can  only  hope  for  happi- 
ness when  one  is  making  for  a  definite  goal  which  may  be 
attained.  A  people  and  a  period  which  aim  at  the  creation 
of  the  colossal  are  doomed  to  overshoot  the  mark,  to  wander 
aimlessly  until  they  commit  some  irreparable  folly.  Hence 
all  civilizations,  which  have  striven  after  the  colossal,  after 
living  in  a  perpetual  state  of  restlessness,  have  been  over- 
whelmed by  some  sudden  catastrophe  —  a  fact  which  makes 
us  wonder  whether  we  are  destined  to  be  the  spectators  of 
another  such  tragedy. 

If  this  indeed  be  the  obscure  purpose  of  history,  what 
light  is  shed  upon  the  sacrifice  which  fate  is  exacting  from 


46        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

the  Allied  peoples?  Let  us  never  forget  that  only  ordeals 
which  put  its  vitality  to  a  test  can  enable  a  nation  to  keep 
alive  the  principles  of  civilization  which  it  has  created  or 
inherited.  Our  ancestors  created  many  great  things.  They 
built  the  Pantheon,  the  Parthenon,  Venice  and  Versailles; 
they  created  the  Empire  and  the  Church,  the  law,  the  philos- 
ophy and  the  decorative  arts  of  the  eighteenth  century;  they 
brought  about  the  Revolution.  What  value  did  we  place 
upon  these  things?  The  sense  of  greatness,  which  is  the  very 
essence  of  Latin  culture,  was  choked  by  the  Asiatic  mania 
for  the  colossal ;  quantity  triumphed  over  quality ;  progress 
—  the  worth  of  nations  —  was  gauged  solely  by  the  growing 
figures  of  statistics.  France  offered  more  resistance  to  this 
current  of  thought  than  any  other  country,  but  for  that  very 
reason  it  was  too  often  said  that  she  was  aging.  Because 
her  commerce  and  population  was  not  increasing  at  the 
same  rate  as  the  population  and  commerce  of  Germany  she 
ought  to  have  vanished  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  How 
could  any  system  of  philosophy,  any  doctrine,  any  argu- 
ment, go  against  this  formidable  current  of  opinions,  senti- 
ments and  interests  (for  many  powerful  interests  were 
mingled  in  this  current)  which  was  carrying  every  nation 
and  every  class  towards  the  hideous  enormities  of  a  purely 
quantitative  civilization?  The  task  could  only  be  accom- 
plished by  one  of  those  great  historic  events  which  can 
change  public  opinion;  one  of  those  ordeals  which  suddenly 
reveal  the  respective  value  of  the  principles  held  by  two 
different  communities.  The  ordeal  on  this  occasion  is  so 
terrible  that  no  man  with  any  heart  would  ever  have  dared 
to  predict  it.  But  since  fate  has  so  willed  it.  .  .  .  Well, 
let  us  try  to  rise  above  death  and  ruins  to  the  height  of  the 
great  events  which  are  taking  place  before  our  eyes  and  to 
draw  thence  the  courage,  firmness  and  resignation  of  which 


THE  GREAT  AND  THE  COLOSSAL  47 

we  stand  in  need.  A  shudder  of  anguish  ran  through  the 
civiHzed  world  during  the  early  weeks  of  the  war.  It  would 
be  idle  to  deny  that  there  were  many  doubters,  many  to 
whom  it  seemed  that  nothing  could  check  and  turn  back  the 
colossal  mass  of  men  and  iron  which,  carrying  all  before  it, 
was  marching  upon  France  —  that  country  whose  frail  and 
ancient  civilization  seemed  on  the  point  of  dying  out.  And 
in  this  hour  of  supreme  anxiety  the  whole  world  turned  its 
eyes  towards  the  distant  north  in  the  hope  of  salvation. 
Then  suddenly,  just  when  the  world  was  beginning  to  de- 
spair, this  colossal  mass  hurled  itself  against  some  invisible 
obstacle  which  arose  as  if  by  miracle,  is  checked  and  re- 
treats. We  probably  lived  through  one  of  the  great  mo- 
ments of  history,  for  it  was  then  that  our  generation,  in  its 
amazement,  began  to  ask  itself  whether  perhaps  after  all 
mass  and  numbers  were  not  everything.  And  from  that 
moment  the  half -conscious  travail  of  our  souls  began.  We 
cannot  yet  say  w^hat  this  travail  will  bring  forth.  The  great 
ordeal  is  not  yet  over.  But  just  as  we  cannot  doubt  that 
the  world  in  which  we  shall  spend  the  rest  of  our  lives  will 
be  very  different  from  the  world  we  have  hitherto  known, 
so  w^e  may  hope  that  civilization  may  once  again  avert  a  ca- 
tastrophe which  seemed  inevitable.  The  cruel  bloodshed  and 
anguish  of  the  past  years  must  not  have  been  endured  in  vain. 
This  war  must  be  the  final  victory  of  true  intellectual  and 
moral  greatness  over  the  mania  for  the  colossal  which  had 
hardened  and  blinded  the  mind  of  man;  it  must  restore  to 
the  world  the  power  to  appreciate  in  every  sphere  that  which 
is  great  solely  by  reason  of  the  smallness  of  its  proportions 
and  its  humility,  a  greatness  which  is  wholly  from  within; 
it  must  once  more  raise  up  generations  which  can  accom- 
plish great  things  simply  and  humbly  and  a  world  which 
shall  recover  its  moral  equilibrium  in  the  sense  of  true  great- 


48        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ness.  It  would  be  rash  to  assert  that  there  will  never  be 
another  war,  but  if  other  great  wars  should  take  place  it  is 
our  duty  towards  the  world  and  ourselves  to  do  everything 
in  our  power  to  ensure  that  never  again  shall  mankind  have 
to  face  another  war  such  as  that  forced  on  us  by  the  vota- 
ries of  the  colossal. 


CHAPTER  II 
Teutonism  and  Latinism 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM 

I 

Almost  the  whole  civilization  of  Europe  and  of  America, 
in  its  essential  elements,  has  been  created,  on  the  shore  of 
the  Mediterranean,  by  the  Greeks,  the  Latins  and  the  Jews 
in  the  ancient  world;  by  the  nations  that  we  call  Latin  in 
the  middle  ages  and  in  modern  times.  The  religion,  the 
political  institutions  and  doctrines,  the  organization  of  ar- 
mies, the  law,  the  art,  the  literature,  the  philosophy  w^hich 
today  form  the  basis  of  European-American  civilization, 
are,  taken  as  a  whole,  the  work  of  those  nations  which  one 
can,  from  their  position,  describe  as  Mediterranean.  Far 
less  numerous,  although  more  recent,  are  the  contributions 
of  the  peoples  which  have  not  had  the  privilege  of  being 
able  to  bathe  themselved  in  the  sacred  waters  of  that  his- 
toric sea.  Their  enumeration  is  not  a  long  one.  There  is 
the  Reformation  Lutherism,  so  different  from  Calvinism; 
that  is  to  say,  from  the  Reformation  conceived  in  Latin 
countries:  there  is  the  great  industrialism  which  makes  use 
of  the  motor  force  of  steam  and  of  iron  machinery,  created 
by  England :  there  is  the  parliamentarism,  which  is  also  an 
English  creation :  there  is  the  English  and  German  philoso- 
phy of  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries :  and,  in  lit- 
erature, romanticism.  To  this  we  must  add,  to  the  score 
of  the  Germanic  and  Anglo-Saxon  peoples,  some  literary, 
aesthetic  and  juridical  contributions  of  varying  w^orth  in  the 
lines  traced  by  the  Greco-Latin  genius,  and  the  creation  of 
modern  science,  at  which  the  English  and  Germans  have 

61 


52  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

worked  together  with  the  French  and  the  Itahans.  Modern 
science  has  been  created  by  a  common  effort  of  the  peoples 
of  Europe,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  compare  each  nation's 
merit. 

Creation  and  application  are  two  distinct  things.  The 
Mediterranean  peoples  have  created,  in  their  long  history, 
a  greater  number  of  principles  of  civilization  than  the  Ger- 
manic or  Anglo-Saxon  peoples;  this  does  not  prevent  sev- 
eral of  these  principles  having  been  adopted,  applied,  per- 
fected, and  even  employed  as  arms  against  the  peoples  who 
had  created  them,  by  other  groups. 

But,  having  made  this  reservation,  one  may  affirm  that 
modern  civilization  is,  taken  as  a  whole,  far  more  the  work 
of  the  Mediterranean  peoples  than  of  the  extra-Mediter- 
ranean peoples;  that  it  has  been  created  in  part  by  the 
Greeks  and  the  Hellenized  Orientals  of  the  ancient  world; 
in  part  by  the  Semitic  spirit;  in  part  by,  first  the  Romans, 
and  afterwards  by  the  peoples  we  call  Latin  because  they 
speak  languages  derived  from  Latin ;  Italians,  French,  Span- 
iards, Portuguese.  To  speak  only  of  modern  Europe,  it 
is  the  Latin  peoples  who  achieved,  in  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries,  the  greater  part  of  that  work  of  geographic 
exploration  which  was  to  give  over  the  whole  planet  to  the 
white  race;  it  is  to  them  above  all  that  we  owe  the  Renais- 
sance, that  great  intellectual  movement  of  which  the  mod- 
ern age  has  been  born.  It  is  also  among  these  peoples  that 
we  must  seek  those  who  have  taken  the  initiative  in  re- 
organizing great  States  and  powerful  armies  in  Europe  after 
the  political  parcelling-out  and  the  disarmed  cosmopolitism 
of  the  middle  ages.  The  French  Revolution,  its  intellectual 
preparation,  its  military  epopee,  the  immense  political,  ju- 
ridical and  social  transformations  that  it  brought  about  in 
all  Europe,  are  Latin  works.     The  Revolution  of  1848  is 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  53 

another  movement,  at  once  intellectual,  political  and  social, 
receiving  its  impetus  from  the  Latin  world. 

This  brief  enumeration  should  suffice  to  prove  that  these 
peoples  ought  not  to  be  adjudged  inferior  in  importance  to 
any  other  group  in  Europe.  They  are  nothing  of  the  kind. 
For  the  last  half  century  the  decadence  of  the  Latin  peoples 
has  been  a  favourite  theme  of  the  meditations  of  the  savants, 
or  of  those  who  believe  themselves  such.  It  is  spoken  of 
under  a  thousand  different  forms.  Spain  and  Portugal 
hold  themselves  so  much  aloof  that  their  existence  would  be 
almost  unknown  had  not  their  ancient  American  colonies 
become  so  important  a  part  of  the  contemporary  economic 
system.  Italy,  in  taking  part  since  1859  in  the  politics  of 
Europe,  has  attracted  to  herself  the  attention  of  the  world 
more  than  the  Iberian  peninsula ;  but  the  attention  given  to 
her  present  efforts  is  very  small  compared  with  the  admira- 
tion bestowed  on  her  past.  Contemporary  Italy  still  dis- 
appears almost  entirely  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  in  her 
immense  history.  As  to  France,  above  all  in  the  ten  years 
w^hich  preceded  the  war,  the  opinion  that  she  was  a  country 
fallen  into  decline,  destined  to  imminent  decease,  was  be- 
coming general.  At  the  moment  when  the  war  broke  out 
the  world  was  already  convinced,  or  very  near  convincing 
herself,  that  the  group  of  peoples  that  are  called  in  Europe 
Latins,  had,  after  having  achieved  so  many  things  up  to  the 
end  of  the  nineteenth  centur}%  allowed  itself  to  be  rapidly 
distanced  by  other  more  energetic  groups.  One  had,  ac- 
cordingly, the  right  to  consider  it  as  fallen  into  the  rear. 

This  belief  had  ended  by  penetrating  even  the  spirit  of 
the  Latin  peoples  themselves.  Under  different  forms  and 
in  different  degrees  these  peoples  have,  during  the  last  thirty 
years,  alternated  between  continual  ups  and  downs.  At 
times  they  have  proclaimed  themselves  the  foremost  peoples 


64.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

of  the  world;  at  times  they  have  abandoned  themselves  to 
the  gloomiest  pessimism  as  to  their  future.  It  is,  more- 
over, indisputable  that,  since  1787,  the  group  of  Latin  peo- 
ples has  been  the  most  agitated,  from  the  political  stand- 
point, among  the  European  groups.  The  political  crises 
which  have  disturbed  them  have  been  far  more  numerous 
and  more  serious  than  those  which  have  disturbed  the 
Anglo-Saxon  and  the  Germanic  world.  These  crises  have 
greatly  contributed  toward  giving  the  world  at  large,  and 
the  Latin  peoples  themselves,  an  impression  of  inward  weak- 
ness. And,  in  proportion  as  the  consciousness  of  this  weak- 
ness increased  among  these  peoples,  the  nations  benefited  by 
their  decadence,  real  or  assumed,  by  waxing  in  the  admira- 
tion of  the  world,  England  first,  then  Germany. 

England  had  been  in  Europe,  between  1870  and  1900,  the 
model  most  admired  in  industry,  in  commerce,  in  finance, 
in  poHtics,  in  diplomacy,  in  social  life.  Germany  was,  up 
to  that  time,  the  model  only  for  the  army,  for  science,  and 
for  certain  social  institutions.  But  after  1900  Germany 
seemed  rapidly  to  become  the  universal  model,  beating  Eng- 
land in  almost  all  the  provinces  wherein  she  had  preserved 
until  then  an  uncontested  superiority. 

People  did  not  continue  merely  to  admire  the  German 
army  and  science  as  the  foremost  of  the  world :  they  began 
also  to  admire  its  industrial  organization,  its  commercial 
methods,  its  system  of  banks,  as  more  modern  and  more 
perfect  models  than  those  which  England  yet  afforded. 
The  world  told  itself  that  England  was  growing  old,  and 
more  and  more  men's  minds  turned  towards  Berlin.  It 
was  Germany,  by  its  doctrines  and  its  example,  which  gave 
the  final  blow  to  the  English  doctrines  of  free  trade  and  to 
the  laisser  faire  of  the  Manchester  school.  It  was  Germany 
which  alone  succeeded  in  disputing  the  empire  of  the  seas 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  65 

with  England,  by  creating,  in  a  few  years,  the  second  mer- 
chant marine  and  the  second  fleet  of  the  world.  When  the 
war  broke  out,  von  Ballin  was  on  the  point  of  taking  his 
place  among  the  glories  of  Germany,  by  the  side  of  Kant, 
of  Goethe  and  of  Wagner.  The  admiration  for  Germany 
had  become  so  great  that  even  the  repugnance  for  its  polit- 
ical institutions  had  diminished.  The  almost  incredible 
indulgence  of  the  Socialist  party  of  all  the  European  coun- 
tries towards  the  empire  of  the  Hohenzollerns  is  the  most 
singular  proof  of  this.  It  is  also  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  every  one,  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe  and  America, 
had  become  Germanophile  since  1900.  The  prestige  of 
Germany  has  often  been  attributed  to  her  victories  of  1866 
and  1870.  But  the  generation  which  had  witnessed  the 
military  triumphs  of  Germany  had  admired  Germanism  far 
less  than  did  the  succeeding  generation.  After  1900  the 
world  had  no  longer  seen  anything  in  Europe  save  Germany 
and  her  power,  growing  wdth  a  prodigious  rapidity,  in  the 
midst  of  amazed  or  dazzled  nations. 

These  facts  are  too  well  known  for  there  to  be  any  neces- 
sity to  insist  upon  them  at  length.  If  one  relied  on  appear- 
ances one  would  have  to  conclude  that  some  countries,  which 
had  been,  for  so  many  centuries,  active  and  capable,  had 
been  all  at  once  struck  by  an  incurable  paralysis.  Almost 
all  the  virtues  which  render  a  people  strong  and  a  nation 
flourishing  would  seem  to  have  emigrated,  within  a  few 
years,  to  Germany.  There  have  been,  among  the  nations, 
some  parvenus  of  power  and  wealth ;  but  one  had  not  hith- 
erto seen  the  parvenu  of  civilization :  a  people  become,  in  a 
few  dozen  years,  capable  of  teaching  everything  to  every 
one,  even  to  its  former  masters.  Our  age  has  witnessed 
this  extraordinary  phenomenon. 

It  is,  moreover,  the  explanation  which,  previous  to  the 


56       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

war,  tended  to  become  universal.  The  European  war  has 
rapidly  changed  that  state  of  mind;  it  has  even  entirely  re- 
versed it  with  many  people.  History  has  rarely  witnessed 
a  change  so  radical  and  so  sudden.  From  one  end  of  the 
world  to  the  other  millions  of  men  have  stigmatized  the 
German  nation  as  the  shame  of  our  age,  as  the  representa- 
tive of  barbarism,  without  any  longer  remembering  that 
they  admired  it,  three  years  ago,  as  the  teacher  and  the 
model  of  the  universe.  But  just  because  this  reaction  has 
been  so  violent  and  so  sudden  it  seems  profitable  to  pause 
and  study  its  causes  and  its  significance.  If  the  world  has 
forgotten  that  it  considered  as  the  model  par  excellence,  only 
three  years  since,  the  people  whom  it  regards  today  as  bar- 
barians, the  fact  is  not  the  less  true,  and  a  moment's  reflec- 
tion suffices  to  seize  at  once  its  full  import.  We  live  in  the 
most  learned  civilization  that  has  ever  existed.  The  choice 
of  a  master  and  of  a  model  is  the  most  serious  action  that 
a  man  or  a  nation  can  accomplish.  How  then  has  the  most 
learned  epoch  in  history  been  able  to  deceive  itself  in  so 
gross  a  manner  upon  the  most  serious  question  in  life,  and 
take  as  model  the  people  that  it  should  suddenly  have  to 
repudiate  as  barbarous?  Such  an  error  must  have  pro- 
found causes.  The  search  after  these  causes  is,  then,  the 
most  important  problem  which,  at  this  moment,  presents  it- 
self to  minds  which  reflect  and  strive  to  understand. 


II 

This  book  is  devoted  to  the  study  of  this  great  problem. 
A  somewhat  rapid  survey  suffices  to  reveal  in  contemporary 
civilization  two  ideals:  an  ideal  of  perfection  and  an  ideal 
of  power.  The  ideal  of  perfection  is  a  legacy  of  the  past 
and  is  composed  of  different  elements,  of  which  the  most 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  57 

important  are  the  Greco-Latin  tradition,  intellectual,  lit- 
erary, artistic,  juridic  and  political;  Christian  morality  un- 
der its  various  forms;  the  new  moral  and  poHtical  aspira- 
tions born  during  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries. 
It  is  the  ideal  which  imposes  on  us  beauty,  truth,  justice, 
the  moral  perfection  of  individuals  and  of  institutions  as  the 
aim  of  life;  which  preserves  in  the  modern  world  the  relig- 
ious life,  artistic  and  scientific  activity,  the  spirit  of  soHdar- 
ity;  which  improves  political  and  social  institutions,  the 
works  of  charity  and  foresight.  The  other  ideal  is  more 
recent:  it  was  born  in  the  last  two  centuries,  in  proportion 
as  men  perceived  that  they  could  dominate  and  bring  into 
subjection  the  forces  of  nature  in  degrees  formerly  un- 
dreamed of.  Intoxicated  by  their  success;  by  the  riches 
which  they  succeeded  in  producing  very  rapidly  and  in  enor- 
mous quantities,  thanks  to  a  certain  number  of  ingenious 
inventions ;  by  the  treasures  that  they  have  discovered  in  the 
earth,  ransacked  in  all  directions;  by  their  victories  over 
space  and  over  time,  modern  men  have  considered  as  an 
ideal  of  life,  at  once  beautiful,  lofty  and  almost  heroic,  the 
indefinite  and  unlimited  increase  of  human  power. 

The  former  of  these  ideals,  the  ideal  of  perfection,  can 
be  considered,  in  Europe,  as  the  Latin  ideal.  The  Latin 
genius  has  shown  its  originality  and  its  power,  and  has  won 
its  highest  glory,  in  striving  to  realize  certain  ideals  of 
perfection;  that  is  to  say,  in  creating  arts,  literatures,  re- 
ligions, laws,  well-organized  states.  That  does  not  at  all 
mean  that  the  Latin  peoples  have  not  also  contributed  to- 
wards creating  the  ideal  of  power.  The  history  of  France 
during  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries  would  suffice 
to  ensure  to  this  group  of  peoples  an  important  place  in  the 
great  change  in  the  history  of  the  world  which  is  repre- 
sented by  the  advent  of  this  new  ideal.     But  the  Latin  peo- 


58        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

pies,  who  are  the  peoples  of  Europe  whose  civilization  is  the 
oldest,  have  achieved  things  too  great  in  the  periods  in 
which  the  ideals  of  perfection  dominated  alone,  or  almost 
alone,  for  their  life  not  to  be  still  charged  with  the  spirit 
of  those  periods.  If,  however,  in  that  which  relates  to  the 
ideals  of  perfection,  the  Latin  peoples  can  claim  a  well- 
defined  and  characterized  historic  role,  it  is  not  the  same 
in  regard  to  the  new  ideal  of  power.  They  have  developed 
this  in  conjunction  with  other  peoples  of  different  race. 
One  cannot  then  attribute  a  very  precise  significance  to  these 
words,  ''  the  Latin  genius,'*  without  identifying  this  genius 
with  the  irresistible  tendency  which  causes  peoples  and  in- 
dividuals to  desire  all  the  forms  of  perfection  of  which  the 
human  spirit  is  capable. 

The  ideal  of  power  can,  on  the  contrary,  be  considered 
at  this  moment  as  a  Germanic  ideal.  Here  also,  one  must 
not  fall  into  the  error  of  believing  that  this  ideal  has  been 
created  by  the  Germans.  Germany  has  contributed  less 
than  France  to  the  long  and  painful  work  which  was  to  end 
in  the  unfolding  of  this  ideal  in  the  world.  But  it  is  also 
unquestionable  that,  if  it  has  been  slow  to  understand  the 
new  ideal,  Germany  has  ended  by  becoming,  during  the 
last  thirty  3^ears,  its  most  ardent  champion  in  Europe.  The 
immense  development  of  Germany,  which  had  astounded 
the  world,  is  nothing  else  than  this  new  ideal  of  power  trans- 
formed by  the  Germans  into  a  kind  of  national  religion, 
become  a  sort  of  Messiahism,  and  applied  with  an  implaca- 
ble logic  and  an  ardent  passion  to  carry  it  out  to  its  extreme 
consequences  in  all  departments;  no  longer  only  in  manu- 
factures and  business,  as  with  the  Americans,  but  in  the 
world  of  ideas,  and,  an  application  more  dangerous,  in  war 
and  the  army. 

But,  this  distinction  between  the  two  ideals  once  made, 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  59 

it  is  possible  to  understand  the  immense  tragedy  of  which 
we  are  at  once  the  actors,  the  spectators  and  the  victims; 
to  explain  the  unsettlement  of  ideas  which  it  has  produced, 
and  to  cast  a  glance  into  the  future  and  at  the  duties  which 
await  us.  It  suffices  for  the  understanding  of  why  and  how 
our  age  had  associated  these  two  ideals,  believing  that  they 
could  develop  limitlessly  and  peaceably  side  by  side,  whereas 
at  a  certain  point  they  were  bound  to  enter  into  a  violent 
conflict.     That  is  what  we  are  going  to  try  to  do. 


Ill 

No  profound  analysis  is  required  to  discover  that  one  of 
the  characteristic  phenomena  of  the  last  thirty  years  has 
been,  in  Europe,  the  decline  of  the  ancient  ideals  of  perfec- 
tion and  the  growing  prestige  of  the  ideal  of  power.  It  is 
the  universal  fact  that  had  been  masked  under  the  most 
diverse  names,  such  as  "  triumph  of  the  practical  spirit," 
"  the  economic  progress  of  the  age,"  "  the  realist  policy," 
**  the  modem  tendencies."  This  triumph  of  the  ideal  of 
power  is,  moreover,  as  will  be  seen  in  this  book,  the  gather- 
ing to  a  head  of  a  very  complex  historic  movement  whose 
origins  date  back  very  far.  It  has  been,  however,  accel- 
erated, during  the  last  hundred  years,  by  some  immediate 
causes.  I  will  cite  the  principal  of  them:  the  immense 
growth  of  the  English  power,  the  wealth  accumulated  by 
England  and  France,  the  victories  of  Germany,  the  develop- 
ment of  the  two  Americas,  the  exploration  and  conquest  of 
Africa,  the  Increase  of  the  population  and  of  public,  civil 
and  military  expenses  which  demanded  an  Increase  of  pro- 
duction; the  improvement  of  industrial  plant,  the  progress 
of  the  sciences,  the  decline  of  the  aristocracies,  monarchies 
and  Churches  which  represented  in  Europe  the  spirit  of 


60        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

quality  or  the  ideals  of  perfection;  the  exhaustion  of  several 
of  these  ideals,  which  rendered  necessary  a  revival;  the 
weakening  of  the  governments;  the  accession  to  power  of 
the  middle  classes ;  the  growing  importance  acquired  by  the 
masses  and  by  number  in  everything,  in  the  armies,  in 
politics,  in  industry.  Left  to  themselves,  freed  from  the 
old  restraints,  the  masses,  having  but  little  culture,  were 
bound  to  lean  rather  towards  the  ideal  of  power  which  satis- 
fies the  primordial  instincts,  such  as  pride,  cupidity,  ambi- 
tion, than  towards  the  ideals  of  perfection  w^hich  always 
demand  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  and  a  certain  power  of  renun- 
ciation. 

It  was  in  the  immense  refulgence  of  this  ideal  of  power 
that  Germany  increased  to  so  great  an  extent  in  the  world's 
estimate  during  the  first  fourteen  years  of  the  century.  If 
it  were,  in  truth,  the  supreme  duty  of  humanity  to  unite 
all  its  forces  towards  augmenting  its  power,  Germany  would 
have  been  the  true  model  for  the  world.  The  ideal  of 
power,  grown  into  a  national  religion,  together  with  a  com- 
bination of  favourable  circumstances,  such  as  its  central 
position,  the  neighbourhood  of  Russia,  the  abundance  of  oil, 
the  rapid  increase  of  population,  the  general  economic 
development  of  all  countries,  had  produced  in  Germany  an 
unparalleled  explosion  of  energy.  Supported  by  a  strong 
government  endowed  with  indisputable  capacity,  the  Ger- 
man race,  industry,  commerce,  science  and  diplomacy  had 
invaded  the  world,  multiplied  their  enterprises,  conceived 
the  most  audacious  plans.  Success  had  not  always  smiled 
upon  these  enterprises;  but  the  checks  had  never  discour- 
aged either  the  people  or  the  government.  Everywhere  the 
German  had  penetrated  or  assayed  to  penetrate,  disturbing 
the  calm  tranquillity  of  established  positions,  introducing 
a  new  spirit  of  activity,  of  novelty,  of  competition:  aiming 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  61 

to  conquer  the  foremost  place  by  a  struggle  as  tenacious  as 
it  was  devoid  of  scruples. 

History  had  not  previously  beheld  an  example  of  such 
feverish  activity.  The  United  States  themselves  could  not 
sustain  the  comparison.  They  have  achieved  great  things 
in  industry  by  exploiting  a  territory  of  nine  million  square 
kilometres.  The  Germans  had  succeeded  in  drawing  all  the 
goods  with  which  they  flooded  the  earth ;  all  the  ideas,  good 
or  bad,  with  w^hich  they  filled  the  brains ;  the  strongest  army 
and  the  second  fleet  of  the  world,  from  a  territory  of  six 
hundred  thousand  kilometres.  Increasingly  hypnotized  by 
the  one  ideal  of  power,  the  world  had  been  dazzled  by  that 
amazing  activity  and  no  longer  attached  any  importance 
to  the  question  of  the  methods  by  which  Germany  achieved 
her  success.  What  did  it  matter  if,  so  far  back  as  1870, 
she  had  resuscitated  the  old  barbarous  soul  of  war  and  pro- 
claimed the  sovereign  rights  of  force?  What  did  it  matter 
if  she  had  developed  her  industry  and  commerce  by  means 
of  artificial  methods  of  procedure  such  as  dumping ;  by  a 
systematic  deterioration  of  the  quality  of  all  the  goods 
manufactured,  and  by  making  use  without  any  scruple  of 
all  the  means  of  falsification  that  the  human  mind  can  in- 
vent ?  To  blame  these  practices  w^ould  have  required  ideals 
of  perfection,  or  qualifying  standards  of  appraisement. 
But  these  were  growing  confused,  losing  their  prestige  and 
their  force.  .  .  .  The  result  alone  counted.  In  the  crum- 
bling to  pieces  of  all  the  ideals  of  perfection  there  remained 
standing,  in  the  centre  of  Europe,  gigantic,  triumphant,  only 
Germany.  It  is  now  possible  for  us  to  explain  why  the 
idea  of  the  decadence  of  the  Latin  peoples  had  ended  by 
forcing  itself  upon  all,  the  Latin  peoples  themselves  in- 
cluded. The  Latin  countries,  even  the  two  strongest, 
France  and  Italy,  were  incapable  of  rivalling  Germany  in 


6S        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

this  endeavour  for  power.  France  had  not  a  sufficient 
population.  The  increase  of  population  is  a  necessary  con- 
dition of  increase  of  power.  Italy  had  the  population;  but 
coal  was  lacking  to  her.  To  these  material  causes  were 
added  some  psychological  causes;  that  is  to  say,  a  certain 
persistence  of  sentiments  which  dated  back  to  the  periods 
of  qualitative  civilization;  the  habit  of  economy;  the  repug- 
nance to  continual  agitation,  to  incessant  innovation,  to  the 
spirit  of  modernism  carried  to  excess,  to  the  mania  of  speed. 
In  conclusion,  the  political  situation  of  these  countries  ren- 
dered it  impossible  for  their  governments  to  support  the 
effort  of  the  nation  with  as  much  energy  and  intelligence  as 
the  German  government  was  able  to  do. 

For  all  these  reasons,  these  nations  have  by  degrees  come 
to  feel  themselves  inferior,  in  the  struggle  for  power,  to 
the  Germany  which,  though  succeeding  therein  only  in  part, 
they  sought  to  imitate.  Hence  a  very  grave  consequence. 
The  ideal  of  power,  reacting  on  France  and  Italy,  excited 
there,  in  all  classes,  the  appetite  for  facile  gains,  the  desire 
for  rapid  enrichment,  all  the  forms  of  arrivismc.  But,  not 
having  been  able  fully  to  develop  itself,  it  has  not  excited 
in  the  same  degree  the  correlative  qualities  and  vices  which 
rendered  the  German  life  a  system  which,  if  not  perfect 
as  superficial  observers  thought  it,  was  at  least  complete 
and  coherent  in  its  dangerous  absurdity;  audacity,  pride, 
the  habit  of  doing  everything,  even  follies,  on  a  large  scale; 
the  spirit  of  co-operation:  confidence  in  the  future;  disci- 
pline ;  that  kind  of  extravagant  Messianic  fervour  by  which 
the  German  was  convinced  that  he  w^as  regenerating  the 
world  by  inundating  it  with  bad  goods.  Taking  all  in  all 
the  two  countries  remained  more  attached  than  Germany 
to  the  old  ideals  of  perfection;  remained,  that  is  to  say,  .  .  . 
and  the  war  has  proved  it  ...  in  a  more  elevated  intel- 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  63 

lectual  and  moral  state.  But  at  the  same  time  they  brought 
into  the  economic  life  a  timidity,  a  limitation,  a  spirit  of 
distrust,  of  isolation  and  of  reahsm;  an  absence  of  all  mys- 
tic illusion,  which,  combining  with  the  appetite  for  gains 
and  the  desire  for  riches,  engendered  egoisms  and  corrup- 
tions very  harmful,  whether  to  the  economic  system,  or  to 
the  whole  social  organization  of  the  country.  This  state  of 
things  provoked  a  great  discontent  and  gave  to  one  part  of 
public  opinion,  in  the  two  countries,  a  very  painful  sense  of 
intellectual  and  moral  incapacity  in  comparison  with  Ger- 
many. 

An  eflfort  which  but  half  succeeds  is  always  painful,  to  an 
individual  as  to  a  people.  To  this  sentiment  of  partial  in- 
capacity were  added  very  well  justified  apprehensions  of  a 
real  danger.  This  people  which  was  multiplying  in  the 
centre  of  Europe,  and  developing  its  power  with  such  ra- 
pidity under  the  leadership  of  an  energetic  government,  was 
it  not  a  danger  for  the  surrounding  nations  ?  But  all  these 
anxieties  and  fears  would  not  have  become  so  agonizing, 
in  the  years  preceding  the  war,  save  for  an  illusion  wherein 
lies  the  profound  cause  of  the  immense  present  crisis.  The 
ideals  of  perfection,  which  could  have  limited  to  wiser  pro- 
portions our  admiration  for  Germany,  had  grown  dim  in 
the  mind  of  the  world;  but  they  had  not  been  officially 
abjured.  No  one  would  have  admitted,  even  before  the 
war,  the  wish  to  live  in  a  world  without  beauty,  without 
justice,  without  truth.  When  one  spoke  of  progress  or  of 
civilization  one  always  meant  it  to  be  understood,  more  or 
less  clearly,  as  moral  and  intellectual  improvement.  Our 
age  desired  power,  but  it  also  desired,  in  all  sincerity,  char- 
ity, equity,  justice,  truth,  good.  It  was  easily  angered  if 
any  one  doubted  of  these  virtues.  Unfortunately,  if  it 
wanted  these  blessings,  it  was  not  the  less  constrained,  by 


64        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

dominating  passions  and  interests,  to  sacrifice  them  daily 
to  its  desire  for  riches  and  power.  It  was  a  question,  then, 
for  our  age,  of  increasing  its  riches  and  power  inimitably, 
while  escaping  the  reproach  of  paying  for  these  material 
advantages  by  a  moral  deterioration  of  the  whole  of  society. 
The  problem  was  difficult:  how  has  it  resolved  it?  It  has 
found  a  simple  and  convenient  means  of  reconciling  the 
ideal  of  power  and  the  ideal  of  perfection :  it  has  mixed  and 
confused  them.  With  the  aid  of  a  numerous  army  of 
sophists,  it  has  convinced  itself  that  the  world  would  im- 
prove, would  become  wiser,  more  moral,  more  beautiful,  in 
short,  more  perfect,  in  proportion  as  it  grew  rich  and  de- 
veloped its  power.  Quantity  could  increase  and  quality 
improve  indefinitely,  side  by  side. 

What  a  part  in  the  intellectual  life  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury has  been  played  by  this  necessity,  in  which  our  age 
found  itself,  of  confusing  ideas  upon  this  vital  point! 
What  theories  have  been  admired  because  they  arose  from 
this  confusion,  and  assisted  in  producing  it,  in  the  minds 
of  men!  That  of  the  superman,  for  example.  But  Ger- 
many was  still  the  country  which  derived  most  benefit  from 
that  confusion.  The  apparent  order  which  reigned  in  the 
country,  and  that  almost  perfect  co-ordination  of  all  the 
efforts  of  the  nation  towards  power,  seemed  the  ideal  of 
intellectual  and  moral  perfection.  Germany  became  the 
model  of  all  the  perfections.  Because  she  was  the  most 
powerful  country,  she  was  considered  as  the  most  intelli- 
gent nation,  the  most  learned,  the  wisest,  the  most  moral, 
the  most  serious  in  the  world.  She  had  solved,  better  than 
the  other  nations,  all  the  problems  of  the  period  and  real- 
ized the  ideal  of  the  most  perfect  life.  Her  law,  her  social 
institutions,  her  sciences,  her  music,  seemed  unsurpassable : 
she  was  even  beginning  to  become  a  model  in  the  arts. 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  65 

Germany  had  transferred  into  the  arts  her  mania  for  mod- 
ernism, her  capacity  for  imitation,  and  her  spirit  of  organ- 
ization; that  which,  in  the  immense  aesthetic  anarchy  of  the 
period,  seemed,  to  a  certain  number  of  spirits  discontented 
with  the  present,  the  dawn  of  a  new  era.  Even  the  Social- 
ists were  converted,  in  the  Latin  countries,  to  admiration 
for  Germany.  In  seeking  a  pretext  for  recriminations 
against  the  bourgeois  regime,  they  had  forgotten  that  it 
was  to  that  regime  that  they  owed  the  possibihty  of  existing 
as  a  party :  they  exalted  the  "  social  laws  "  enacted  by  the 
military  oligarchy  which  governs  Germany  as  a  grand  prog- 
ress of  which  their  ow^n  countries  were  not  capable;  and  the 
German  Socialist  party  which,  without  the  liberties  given 
to  the  world  by  the  French  Revolution,  would  not  have 
been  able  even  to  exist,  as  the  true  liberator  of  the  world ! 
Which  is  tantamount  to  saying  that  the  government  of  the 
Junker  was  more  just  and  more  humane  than  the  demo- 
cratic governments  of  Western  Europe.  Europe  was  de- 
luding herself  with  these  absurd  illusions,  when  all  at  once 
the  sky  and  earth  trembled.  Germany  had  just  fired  the 
mine. 

IV 

Within  a  week  the  nation  which  had  been  the  model  of 
all  the  virtues  became  the  object  of  universal  execration. 
The  dictionary  no  longer  held  adjectives  adequate  to  stig- 
matize it.  It  was  banished  from  the  society  of  civilized 
nations.  What  had  taken  place  in  eight  days?  A  thing 
simple  and  tragic :  the  ideal  of  perfection  and  the  ideal  of 
power,  which  the  world  had  confused,  as  if  they  could  de- 
velop indefinitely  side  by  side,  were  entered  into  conflict. 
Therein  lies  the  profound  significance  of  the  whole  present 
crisis. 


66        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

A  philosopher  would  have  been  able  to  foresee  a  priori 
that  this  conflict  would  break  forth  one  day  or  another. 
This  prevision  belonged  to  the  number  of  certitudes  that 
one  could  call  dialectique,  because  they  can  be  arrived  at  by 
reasoning;  and  which  are  the  more  sure  if,  to  arrive  at 
them,  the  argument  takes  its  start  from  a  well-established 
truth.  A  common-sense  truth  could  in  this  case  lead  easily 
to  this  prevision:  which  is,  that  the  blessings  of  life  are 
mutually  allied  one  to  another  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
mutually  limit  each  other  in  different  ways;  and  that  if  one 
wishes  to  enjoy  a  blessing  beyond  a  certain  degree,  one 
must  renounce  the  other  which  formed  its  limit.  But  then, 
very  often,  even  the  blessing  which  one  has  too  much  de- 
sired becomes  an  evil.  "  For  a  fortnight,"  ...  so  spoke, 
some  years  before  the  war,  an  old  man  who  had  known 
men  and  the  world  ..."  we  have  argued  to  discover  what 
was  of  greater  value,  to  produce  riches,  to  create  works  of 
art,  or  to  discover  truths ;  and  up  to  what  point  it  was  good 
to  desire  wealth.  .  .  .  Now,  in  doing  this,  what  have  we 
done  save  to  seek  the  relations  which  exist  between  Art, 
Truth,  Morality,  Utility,  Pleasure,  Duty,  Equity;  that  is  to 
say,  between  the  blessings  of  life?  These  are  questions 
which  greatly  interest  philosophers,  who  readily  imagine 
that  the  world  is  perpetually  in  trouble  because  they  do  not 
succeed  in  resolving  these  grave  problems.  But  does  not 
life  take  it  upon  herself  to  answer  them  each  day?  Is  it 
then  so  difficult  to  understand  that  these  things  are  the  lim- 
its, the  one  of  the  other?  Duty  can  put  a  bridle  on  Pleas- 
ure and  preserve  it  from  perilous  abuses :  the  sense  of  the 
Beautiful  can  preserve  Morality  from  certain  excesses  of 
asceticism:  Morality  can  turn  Art  aside  from  certain  in- 
decent subjects :  Utility  hold  Truth  a  little  in  check,  remind- 
ing man  that  *  all  Truth  is  not  good  to  utter ' ;  or  can  pre- 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  67 

vent  Morality  and  Art  from  becoming  dehumanized  by 
becoming  ends  unto  themselves;  and  so  on.  What  is 
history  if  not  the  perpetual  effort  of  the  will  to  discover  new 
balances  (equilibriums)  and  more  perfect  limitations  be- 
tween these  elements  of  life?"-^ 

It  is  the  same  with  justice,  charity,  reverence,  equity, 
loyalty,  chivalric  sentiment;  with  all  those  ideals  of  moral 
perfection  which  the  world  had  not  renounced,  and  of 
power.  Power  and  these  ideals  do  not  necessarily  exclude 
each  other,  but  they  mutually  limit  each  other.  The 
stronger  the  ideals  are  in  a  nation  or  an  individual,  so  much 
the  more  will  power  acquired  by  violating  justice,  charity, 
equity  and  loyalty  horrify  them :  they  will  want  power  only 
within  the  limits  traced  by  these  ideals  of  moral  perfection. 
The  stronger  the  ambition  for  power,  the  more  easily  and 
indifferently  will  an  individual  and  a  nation  overstep  these 
limits.  If  the  ambition  for  power  become,  in  a  man  or  in 
a  nation,  a  kind  of  religion  or  Messianic  mysticism,  these 
limits  will  end  by  being  regarded  as  obstacles  that  the  man 
or  the  nation  must  overthrow,  and  with  which  they  will 
boast  of  being  openly  in  conflict.  That  is  w^hat  has  hap- 
pened to  Germany,  before  the  eyes  of  the  terrified  world. 
Intoxicated  by  its  success,  by  the  flatteries  of  which  it  was 
the  object,  by  the  idea  of  its  strength,  by  the  hope  of  an 
immense  triumph,  Germany  had  ended  by  believing,  as, 
moreover,  the  greater  number  of  its  admirers  believed,  that 
it  was  the  best  because  it  was  the  strongest :  it  was  obvious, 
then,  that  it  w^ould  improve  in  proportion  as  it  should 
increase  in  strength :  consequently,  all  that  it  did  to  augment 
its  power  was  good.  The  spirit  of  a  whole  people,  power- 
ful, strong,  numerous,  once  set  upon  this  declivity,  and  it 
was  bound  to  slide  rapidly  into  the  worst  excesses. 

^  "  Entre  les  Deux  Mondes,"  Paris,  1913,  p.  415. 


68        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

But  if  Germany,  which  was  the  strongest  and  which 
hoped  to  win,  had  easily  confused  with  the  good  all  that 
which  favoured  her  immense  ambitions,  the  peoples  at- 
tacked, who  felt  themselves  the  weaker  and  who  saw  them- 
selves menaced  by  a  fearful  danger,  took  refuge  by  the 
deserted  altars  of  Justice,  of  Equity,  of  chivalrous  Generos- 
ity, of  Loyalty;  that  is  to  say,  they  opposed  to  Germany 
and  its  ideal  of  power  the  old  ideals  of  perfection.  From 
that  moment  they  have  recommenced,  in  all  the  nations 
w^hich  speak  languages  derived  from  the  Latin,  to  exalt  the 
Latin  genius,  the  Latin  spirit,  the  Latin  civilization,  in 
prose  and  verse.  And  with  reason;  for  the  Latin  genius 
sums  up  the  ideals  of  perfection,  which  alone  can  limit  the 
aspirations  of  man  after  criminal  power.  But  if  the  Latin 
ideal  is  above  all  and  before  all  an  ideal  of  perfection,  it  is 
necessary  for  all  those  who  today  exalt  the  Latin  genius 
and  oppose  it  to  Germanism,  to  bear  well  in  mind  that  it 
represents  the  opposite  of  what  one  had  formed  the  habit 
of  most  admiring  in  Germany:  of  that  insatiable  aspiration 
after  an  unlimited  growth  of  power;  of  that  untiring  and 
unscrupulous  activity;  of  that  spirit  of  invasion;  of  that 
taste  for  all  which  is  enormous,  colossal,  extravagant,  vio- 
lent. We  must  not  delude  ourselves  too  much :  the  ideal 
of  a  power  which  should  grow  indefinitely  has  seduced  the 
minds  of  many  and  has  deeply  penetrated  into  even  the 
Latin  countries.  Even  today,  after  so  much  bloodshed, 
many  adversaries  of  Germany  waver  between  the  horror 
and  fear  of  the  excesses  committed  by  it,  and  the  desire  to 
appropriate  its  methods  and  the  secret  of  its  successes.  We 
must  not  too  far  forget  that  powerful  interests  are  bound 
up,  even  in  the  Latin  countries,  with  that  ideal  of  boundless 
power,  whereas  every  ideal  of  perfection  imposes  limits, 
restrictions  and  renunciations. 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  69 


It  is  above  all  for  this  reason  that  the  present  war  seems 
bound  to  be  the  beginning  of  a  very  long  and  complicated 
historical  crisis.  This  immense  catastrophe  has  shown  the 
world  that  it  is  not  possible  to  want  at  one  and  the  same 
time  an  unlimited  increase  of  power  and  a  continual  moral 
progress ;  that  sooner  or  later  the  moment  comes  when  the 
choice  must  be  made  between  justice,  charity,  loyalty,  and 
power,  riches,  success.  But  it  is  not  so  easy  to  make  the 
choice  as  to  say  that  it  must  be  made.  A  few  examples  will 
show  what  transformations  and  responsibilities  this  choice 
implies,  should  the  world  decide  one  day  to  limit  afresh 
the  ideal  of  power  and  the  ambitions  which  it  engenders, 
by  ideals,  old  or  new,  of  perfection.  These  examples  will 
at  the  same  time  give  an  idea  of  the  practical  conclusions 
of  which  the  ideas  expounded  in  this  book,  and  the  concep- 
tion of  the  European-  conflict  which  is  there  set  forth,  per- 
mit; they  will  thus  lead  to  a  better  understanding  of  that 
which  a  renaissance  of  the  Latin  spirit  will  signify  in  mod- 
ern civilization  on  the  day  when  it  shall  appear. 

In  many  States  there  is  a  question  of  alcoholism.  It  is 
serious  above  all  in  France.  In  what  does  this  question 
consist?  It  is  only  one  of  the  consequences  of  the  effort 
for  the  unlimited  increase  of  production  of  all  things,  use- 
ful or  harmful,  which  characterizes  our  age.  Alone  among 
all  the  civilizations  of  history,  our  civilization  has  appHed 
itself  with  the  same  energy  to  manufacture  ever  greater 
quantities  of  all  products,  from  alcohol  to  explosives,  from 
cannons  to  aeroplanes,  without  ever  troubling  itself  as  to 
the  use  that  would  be  made  of  them.  It  is  thus  that  enor- 
mous quantities  of  alcohol  have  been  distilled;  and  after 
having  been  distilled  they  have  been  given  to  the  miUion 


70        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

to  drink,  even  at  the  risk  of  destroying  whole  nations.  The 
primary  sources  of  the  vice  are  in  the  industry  and  not  in 
the  men.  It  is  not  the  thirst  of  men  which  obhges  indus- 
try and  agriculture  to  produce  drink  in  ever  increasing 
quantity:  it  is  industry  and  agriculture  which,  swept  along 
by  the  tremendous  economic  on-rush  of  the  w^orld,  augment 
the  production;  and,  to  dispose  of  it  all,  teach  the  masses 
to  get  drunk.  The  question  of  alcoholism  is,  in  short,  pri- 
marily a  question  of  over-production.  Our  ancestors  w^ere 
much  more  sober,  not  because  they  were  wiser  or  more 
virtuous  or  more  devout;  but  because  they  produced  less 
alcohol,  and  the  little  that  they  produced  was  of  better  qual- 
ity.    They  could  not  drink  the  alcohol  which  did  not  exist. 

The  deduction  is  clear.  To  eradicate  this  plague  the 
State  must  claim  the  faculty  of  limiting  certain  productions 
for  moral  and  patriotic  reasons;  that  is  to  say,  set  moral 
limits  to  the  ceaselessly  growing  productive  power  of  mod- 
ern industry.  Neither  propaganda  committees,  nor  lec- 
tures, nor  sermons,  nor  pamphlets,  nor  even  the  reduction 
of  the  number  of  public-houses,  will  cure  the  evil  so  long 
as  such  great  quantities  of  alcohol  shall  continue  to  be  dis- 
distilled.  If  we  w^ant  to  save  the  masses  from  this  curse, 
there  is  only  one  way:  entirely  to  prohibit  the  distillation  of 
the  alcohols  of  inferior  quality  destined  for  the  making  of 
liqueurs,  and  rigorously  to  limit  the  production  of  the  alco- 
hols of  superior  quality.  The  people  will  be  obliged  to  drink 
less  when  they  no  longer  have  anything  at  their  disposition 
but  wine,  beer,  and  a  few  very  expensive  liqueurs. 

Another  serious  question  brought  forward  by  the  war  is 
that  of  the  limits  of  commercial  competition  between  the 
different  nations.  Every  one  knows  that  the  development 
of  the  German  industry  and  commerce  has  been  in  part 
obtained  with  the  aid  of  special  methods  of  competition, 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  71 

such  as  dumping,  and  innumerable  ingenious  adulterations. 
German  chemistry  has  been  the  great  accomplice  of  all  these 
adulterations.  These  are  ways  of  acting  which  can  only  be 
justified  if  one  admits  that  quantity  is  everything  in  the 
world ;  that  each  people  ought  to  seek  only  to  produce,  sell 
and  consume  as  much  as  it  can;  that  the  worth  of  nations 
is  measured  by  the  figures  of  its  exports;  and  that,  to  irw- 
crease  the  raw  total  of  commerce,  all  means  are  good.  But 
these  are  the  principles  which  have  led  Germany  to  destroy 
herself  in  destroying  Europe  for  the  satisfaction  of  its  inor- 
dinate ambition ;  and  against  which  we  have  been  protesting 
for  years  past  by  opposing  the  Latin  spirit,  and  its  ideals  of 
moral  perfection,  to  the  unscrupulous  lusts  of  Germanism! 
If,  then,  we  wish  for  the  spirit  of  justice,  loyalty,  a  certain 
feeling  of  trust,  to  regulate  in  future  the  relations  between 
the  civilized  peoples  of  Europe,  we  must  apply  curbs  and 
limits  to  these  equivocal  procedures.  It  is  so  much  the  more 
necessary  in  that,  if  we  do  not  succeed  in  this,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  every  one  will  set  to  after  the  war  to  imitate 
the  German  system :  with  what  result  ?  It  is  easy  to  pre- 
dict! It  is  therefore  necessary  to  endeavour  to  impose 
moral  regulations  upon  international  competition :  but  by 
what  means  ?  There  seems  only  one :  to  revert,  by  modern- 
izing it,  to  an  old  doctrine  which  was  less  an  economic  law 
than  a  moral  principle  imposed  on  economics:  the  just  price 
of  things.  ''  Carius  venders  vel  villus  emere  rem  quam  va- 
le at  .  .  .  injustun/'  said  Saint  Thomas.  The  application  of 
this  principle  in  this  case  can  be  made  without  hesitation, 
for  no  one  will  question  that  he  who  buys  a  thing  at  a 
price  lower  than  the  cost  of  its  production  buys  it  below 
its  worth.  It  must  then  be  affirmed  that  dumping,  while 
being  of  service  to  the  people  who  profit  by  it,  weakens 
in  the  mind  the  concept  of  the  just  price  of  things;  accus- 


72        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

toming  some,  on  the  one  hand,  to  consume  products  in  a 
quantity  beyond  what  they  ought  to  consume,  granted  their 
wealth  and  the  general  wealth;  obliging  others  to  work  at 
too  low  a  price;  disturbing  the  whole  system  of  retributions. 
Consequently  all  the  States  ought  to  unite  together  to  pro- 
hibit dumping  in  all  its  forms;  and  each  State  ought  to 
reserve  to  itself  the  supreme  faculty  of  quashing,  by  equiva- 
lent taxes,  the  dumping  that  another  State  should  not  be 
willing  or  able  to  repress. 

Not  less  grave  is  the  question  of  adulteration  as  a  normal 
procedure  of  modern  industry.  For  the  last  century  it  has 
enriched  many  manufacturers;  it  has  benefited  above  all 
the  Germans,  who  have  made  use  of  it  with  their  customary 
energy  and  audacity;  but  it  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
of  the  procedures  of  modern  commerce  and  industry.  As 
dumping  destroys  in  men's  minds  the  conception  of  the  just 
price  of  things,  these  adulterations  render  men  more  and 
more  incapable  of  distinguishing  what  is  good  from  what 
is  bad  or  mediocre ;  that  is  to  say,  they  stifle  in  our  civiliza- 
tion the  sense  of  quality.  Now%  in  proportion  as  one  stifles 
in  men  the  sense  of  quality,  the  commercial  and  industrial 
struggle  must  necessarily  develop  itself  in  the  sense  of  quan- 
tity. The  business  which  will  pour  forth,  and  know  how 
to  impose,  upon  the  world,  the  greatest  abundance  of  worse 
products  will  be  victorious.  But  when  men  exert  them- 
selves, not  to  make  articles  of  a  certain  quality  and  have 
them  admired,  but  to  produce  and  sell  the  largest  number 
of  articles  in  the  shortest  time;  it  is  a  victory  over  matter, 
over  time  and  over  space  that  they  aspire  to,  and  not  a 
refinement  of  their  tastes  and  capacities.  It  is  then  an 
ideal  of  power  and  not  an  ideal  of  perfection  that  they  are 
seeking  after.  It  is  thus  possible  to  reconstitute  the  chain 
which  links  these  processes  of  adulteration,  recognized  as 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  73 

legitimate  by  modem  trade,  to  the  present  crisis.  The  pro- 
cedures of  falsification  stifle  the  sense  of  quaHty;  quality 
is  the  only  natural  limit  of  quantity;  the  more  the  sense 
of  quality  becomes  obtuse  in  a  period,  the  more  industry  and 
commerce  find  themselves  under  the  necessity  of  struggling 
for  quantity;  that  is  to  say,  of  indefinitely  increasing  pro- 
duction. This  struggle  for  quantity  brings  about  of  neces- 
sity the  triumph  of  an  ideal  of  power  over  all  the  ideals 
of  perfection;  and  we  see,  since  1914,  the  possible  conse- 
quences of  such  a  triumph  in  a  people  which  was  conscious 
of  possessing  the  strongest  army  in  the  world. 

As  to  the  procedures  of  adulteration,  we  can  repeat  what 
has  been  already  said  of  dumping:  if  a  curb  be  not  put  upon 
them  they  will  generalize  themselves  after  the  war.  Every 
one  wnll  want  to  employ  against  Germany  the  arms  which 
it  has  forged  and  with  which  it  has  wounded  us.  But  is 
it  possible  to  put  a  curb  on  this  evil?  Yes:  if  the  States 
again  became,  while  adapting  themselves  to  the  exigencies 
of  a  world  so  greatly  enlarged,  what  they  were  formerly; 
the  guarantees  of  the  quality  of  the  goods.  They  ought 
not,  as  they  did  once,  to  impose  upon  manufactures  a  cer- 
tain standard  of  perfection ;  they  ought  to  continue  to  recog- 
nize the  right,  granted  by  the  industrial  revolution  of  the 
nineteenth  century  to  manufactures  and  commerce,  of  de- 
basing the  quality  to  the  advantage  of  the  quantity,  as  much 
as  they  want,  and  as  they  can;  but  they  ought  ruthlessly 
to  deny  them  the  right  of  hiding  this  deterioration  of  quality 
by  all  the  deceptions  which  industry  and  commerce  misuse 
today.  Very  strong  interior  legislations  and  a  whole  well 
supported  system  of  international  conventions  ought  to  pre- 
vent industry  and  commerce  from  deceiving  the  public  as 
to  the  origin,  the  composition,  the  solidity,  as  to  the  most 
important  qualities,  in  short,  of  the  goods.     Laws  of  this 


74        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

kind  were  formerly  very  numerous,  in  the  periods  of  quali- 
tative civilization;  quantity,  triumphing  with  steam  ma- 
chinery, has  swept  them  aside;  but  many  much  deplored 
inconveniences  of  the  present  economic  regime  would 
disappear  if  one  returned  to  the  inspiratory  principle  of 
those  old  laws,  adapting  it  to  the  requirements  of  the  modern 
world.  One  can  even  say  that  these  inconveniences  will 
only  disappear  on  the  day  when  industry  and  commerce 
shall  accept  these  moral  limits. 

The  commercial  adulterations  are,  moreover,  only  a  part 
of  a  much  greater  problem;  of  the  greatest  moral  problem 
of  our  age:  that  of  loyalty.  For  the  last  three  years  the 
German  lies  and  perfidies  are  the  wonder  of  the  world. 
One  asks  oneself  how  our  century  can  have  engendered  a 
people  which  breaks  its  pledged  word  so  easily  and  knows 
how  to  lie  with  such  audacity.  Would  it  not  be  more 
reasonable  to  ask  oneself  what  good  faith  and  regard  for 
truth  could  be  found  in  a  people  which  had  enriched  itself, 
and  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  admiration  of  the  whole 
world,  through  adulterating  almost  all  the  products  of  the 
earth?  In  this  defect  also  the  Germans  perhaps  represent 
our  age  better  than  one  thinks.  Our  age  has  accomplished 
great  things  and  has  many  virtues;  but  it  shows  itself  more 
and  more  uncertain  and  weak  in  the  conception  of  honour. 
May  I  be  allowed  to  quote  a  book  written  before  the  war? 
"  No  century  had  ever  so  great  a  need  as  ours  to  set  a  limit 
to  the  liberty  to  lie.  For  it  is  in  vain  that  I  try  to  preach 
that  man  ought  to  advance  towards  the  future  without 
turning  his  head;  I  do  not  deceive  myself,  you  know.  Pre- 
cisely because  there  are  limits,  conventional  and  always 
provisional  limits,  man  is  ceaselessly  at  war  with  the  prin- 
ciples upon  which  social  and  moral  order  rest.  Interests 
and  passions  continually  seek  either  to  overthrow   these 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  75 

limits  by  violent  means,  .  .  .  wars,  revolutions,  seditions, 
martial  laws,  bombs,  outrages,  crimes ;  or,  more  frequently, 
to  elude  them  by  sophistry,  because  that  is  less  dangerous. 
How  is  it  that  sophistry  is  never  dead  of  the  mortal  wounds 
which  logic  has  inflicted  upon  it  in  so  many  memorable 
duels?  Why  have  all  ages  licenced  and  loaded  with  gold 
an  oflicial  body  of  sophists,  .  .  .  the  lawyers?  How  could 
Socrates  believe  that  he  was  accomplishing  a  great  moral 
reform  by  teaching  men  to  argue  well?  Because  sophistry 
is  the  arsenal  to  which  man  resorts  to  seek  the  means  of 
observing  principles  when  they  accord  him  a  right,  and  to 
elude  them,  while  feigning  to  respect  them,  when  they  im- 
pose a  duty  upon  him.  Now,  if  man  has  already  resorted 
largely  to  this  arsenal  in  the  times  when  principles  were 
consecrated  by  religion,  what  will  he  not  do  today  when, 
having  passed  out  of  childhood,  he  has  discovered  the  secret 
of  the  game?  The  critical  spirit  is  too  keen  in  our  age,  we 
are  too  old,  we  know  history  too  well  and  are  henceforth 
too  much  accustomed  to  enjoy  the  unbridled  liberty  in  the 
midst  of  which  we  live!  And  you  were  right  again,  Caval- 
canti,  when  you  said  that,  if  our  civilization  is  to  such  a 
point  plastic,  progressive,  ardent,  it  is  to  these  facts  that  it 
owes  it.  The  more,  then,  that  a  man  ages,  the  more  he 
grows  rich,  learned,  powerful,  so  much  the  more  he  ought 
to  repeat  to  himself,  and  profoundly  to  inculcate  in  his 
spirit  this  supreme  rule  of  wisdom :  '  Go  forward,  without 
ever  turning  thy  head  to  see  what  arm  compels  thee;  be- 
lieve in  the  principle  that  thou  professest  and  observe  it  as 
if  it  were  imposed  on  thee  by  God,  as  if  it  represented  the 
sole  truth,  the  sole  beauty,  the  sole  virtue,  the  health  and 
the  salvation  of  the  world;  discuss  not,  argue  not,  com- 
promise not ;  be  faithful  to  thy  conviction  to  the  end,  with- 
out fearing  to  risk  for  it  thy  life  and  thy  fortune;  force 


76        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

thyself  not  to  lie  and  not  to  betray,  then  no  other  person 
can  force  thee  to  do  so.  But  if  thy  principle  breaks  down, 
resign  thyself  to  its  fall  as  if  it  had  been  but  a  human,  con- 
ventional and  arbitrary  limitation  of  that  infinite  Truth, 
that  infinite  Beauty,  that  infinite  Good  which  continues  to 
circulate  in  the  world  through  the  channel  of  the  new  prin- 
ciple which  has  swept  away  thine  own.  '  Triumphant  quan- 
tity, on  the  contrary,  teaches  us  from  the  cradle  to  lie  to 
others  and  to  ourselves,  to  perfect  ourselves  in  all  the  arts 
of  mystification.  Why?  Because  if,  in  fact,  quantity  tri- 
umphs in  the  world  today,  thanks  to  machinery,  to  fire,  to 
America,  it  cannot,  in  spite  of  all,  assume  openly  and  in  its 
own  name  the  government  of  the  world:  for  man  always 
and  every w^here,  in  no  matter  w^hat  condition  and  at  w^hat 
moment,  requires  to  translate  quantity  into  quality,  and  to 
believe  that  the  things  he  makes  use  of  correspond  to  an 
ideal  of  perfection.  Even  at  a  period  when  the  world  has 
so  sadly  deteriorated  and  when  almost  all  the  standards  of 
measure  have  been  impaired  or  confused  in  mediocrity ;  even 
today,  I  say,  no  one  recognizes  a  thing  as  better  merely  be- 
cause it  costs  more;  that  is  to  say,  to  make  quantity  the 
criterion  of  quality.  Quite  the  contrary,  each  wishes  to 
persuade  himself  that,  if  he  pays  a  higher  price,  it  is  be- 
cause the  thing  is  better;  if  not  it  would  seem  to  him  that 
he  was  admitting  his  ow^n  folly  to  himself.  That  is  why 
quantity  has  to  take  the  mask  of  quality  and  use  fraud  to 
deceive  men  and  make  them  believe  that,  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  they  are  only  procuring  abundance  for  them- 
selves, they  are  also  seeking  after  beauty  or  excellence. 
What  are  all  these  Smyrna  carpets  woven  at  Monza;  all 
these  Japanese  goods  or  all  this  Indian  furniture  manufac- 
tured at  Hamburg  or  in  Bavaria ;  all  these  Parisian  novel- 
ties made  in  a  hundred  places;  all  these  rabbits  whom  a 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  77 

few  weeks  suffice  to  change  into  otters;  all  these  cham- 
pagnes made  in  America,  in  Germany,  in  Italy,  if  not  the 
lies  of  quantity,  which  steals  from  ruined  and  proscribed 
quality  her  last  rags  ?  Who  does  not  know  with  how  many 
processes  and  substances  chemistry  has  furnished  industry 
for  the  deception  of  the  public?  It  is  not  then  surprising 
that  our  society  no  longer  possesses  any  instrument  of 
truth  and  faith  which  may  act  upon  consciences  as  did 
formerly  the  oath  and  honour  by  which  religions  and  aris- 
tocracies constrained  man  to  be  sincere  when  he  might  lie 
with  impunity,  faithful  when  he  might  have  been  a  traitor. 
And  from  that  time  onwards  we  see  many  difficulties  spring 
up  and  grow  serious  in  modern  society  for  the  solution  of 
which  we  tax  our  ingenuity  to  find  theories,  institutions, 
preventive  measures.  But  all  such  efforts  remain  unsuc- 
cessful, because  these  difficulties  are  nothing  but  questions 
of  loyalty.  If  the  sentiment  of  loyalty  existed,  it  would 
resolve  them  in  an  instant."  ^ 


VI 

But  I  seem  to  see  more  than  one  reader  smile,  and  to 
hear  repeated  the  objection  which  a  justified  scepticism  sug- 
gests to  many  persons.  ''  All  these  ideas  are  excellent  on 
paper.  But  will  it  ever  be  possible  to  apply  them?  Will 
the  evil  passions  and  the  interests  of  men  ever  consent?  " 

I  do  not  deceive  myself,  for  example,  as  to  the  diffi- 
culties that  modern  States,  enfeebled  as  they  are,  will  en- 
counter upon  the  day  when  they  shall  wish  to  become  once 
more  the  guarantors  of  quality  in  an  economic  world  so 
much  vaster  and  more  encumbered  than  the  old.  And  yet 
industry  and  commerce  are  not  even  the  field  wherein  the 

1  Entre  les  deux  mondes,  p.  370 


78        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ideal  of  power  and  the  ideal  of  perfection  are  destined  to 
fight  their  sternest  battles.  The  same  principles  can  apply 
to  questions  far  more  grave  and  vital,  to  which  I  shall 
merely  allude,  just  because  they  are  too  grave,  and  the  mo- 
ment to  examine  them  thoroughly  has  not  yet  arrived.  But 
there  is  no  doubt  at  all  that  the  Latin  ideal  of  Hfe,  for 
instance,  would  on  the  day  when  it  should  be  able  to  expend 
itself  afresh  in  all  its  strength  and  coherency,  lead  Europe 
to  the  limitation  of  armaments  under  all  their  forms,  from 
the  invention  of  new  engines  of  war  to  the  manufacture 
of  arms  and  effective  forces.  It  is  in  war  that  the  ideal 
of  power,  represented  by  Germany,  has  most  entirely  de- 
stroyed all  the  ancient  ideals  of  moral  perfection  in  which 
we  believed ;  it  is  in  war  that  a  strong  reaction  will  be  most 
necessary  if  we  desire  to  save  modern  civilization  from  an 
irreparable  catastrophe.  But  the  limitation  of  armaments 
implies  another  change,  the  import  of  which  is  even  more 
tremendous;  and  which  raises,  under  another  form,  the 
problem  of  loyalty  upon  which  we  have  already  touched. 
It  is  that  the  States  of  Europe  consent  to  limit  by  treaties, 
the  one  toward  the  others,  and  in  equal  ratio,  their  sovereign 
rights,  in  view  of  a  superior  interest,  common  to  all.  It  is 
enough  merely  to  state  this  for  all  its  difficulties  to  be  appre- 
hended. 

And  yet  it  would  be  an  error  to  consider  all  these  ideas 
as  Utopias  which  cannot  be  realized.  They  are  not,  most 
undoubtedly,  necessities  upon  which  one  can  count  as  upon 
the  accomplishment  of  a  natural  law ;  but  they  are  possibili- 
ties which  depend  upon  the  human  will.  We  find  ourselves 
in  a  sphere  where  all  depends  upon  what  men  want.  If  one 
had  said  to  a  man  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  the  organ- 
ization of  the  authority  and  tradition  under  which  he  lived 
would  one  day  fall,  he  would  have  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  79 

But  man  has  certainly  succeeded  in  the  last  two  centuries 
in  overthrowing  the  principles  upon  which  society  was  based 
even  to  the  point  of  letting  loose  on  the  earth  this  hurricane 
of  fire  and  sword;  because  he  desired  the  unlimited  aggran- 
dizement of  his  power.  Let  us  look  at  the  world :  millions 
of  men  are  butchering  each  other;  empires  are  falling  to 
pieces;  riches  produced  by  two  generations  are  melting 
away;  the  fury  of  destruction  rages  on  the  land,  on  sea,  in 
the  air;  twenty  centuries  of  moral  progress  seem  anni- 
hilated ;  sparks  of  the  immense  conflagration  have  been  car- 
ried by  the  wind  across  the  Atlantic.  If  men  have  desired 
all  that  which  has  rendered  inevitable  this  chaotic  explosion 
of  savage  passions,  is  it  rash  to  hope  that  they  will  some 
day  also  desire  that  which  would  assure  to  the  world  a 
little  more  true  order,  faith,  justice,  loyalty,  charity?  But 
that  which  one  might  call  the  will  of  periods,  that  is  to  say, 
the  great  currents  of  the  civilizations  which  succeed  one 
another,  is  a  very  mysterious  phenomenon.  They  seem  to 
be  the  work  of  the  human  spirit  and  yet  to  be  superior  to 
the  spirit  of  each  man,  as  if  a  people,  a  nation,  a  series  of 
generations,  were  something  more  than  the  aggregate  of 
the  human  beings  of  which  these  human  groups  are  made 
up;  as  if  they  enjoyed  to  the  full  that  liberty  of  choice 
which  individuals  may  avail  themselves  of  in  only  a  small 
degree.  It  is  for  that  reason  impossible  to  say  if,  and  when, 
men  will  desire  a  more  stable  and  just  society  than  that 
which  is  today  struggling  in  this  crisis  of  mad  violence; 
and  after  what  endeavours  and  wanderings  they  will  desire 
it.  But,  whether  that  day  be  near  or  distant,  the  duty  of 
the  historian,  the  moralist,  the  philosopher,  does  not  change. 
They  ought  to  set  before  their  contemporaries  how,  under  the 
surprises,  the  horrors  and  the  ruins  of  this  crisis;  in  all  the 
contradictions  and  uncertainties  amid  which  our  age  strug- 


80        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

gles ;  in  the  difficulties  which  present  themselves  on  all  sides ; 
and  in  those,  yet  greater,  which  will  present  themselves; 
is  lurking  this  dilemma  of  perfection  and  of  power  from 
which  the  world  cannot  escape.  The  struggle  between  the 
Latin  genius  and  the  Germanic  genius  is  nothing  else  than 
this.  The  historian,  the  moralist,  the  philosopher,  are  not 
authorized  to  essert  that  man  ought  to  prefer  perfection  to 
power.  Man  will  be  free  in  the  future  to  resolve  the  prob- 
lem, as  he  has  been  in  the  past,  in  deciding  for  one  or  other 
of  the  alternatives.  But  what  the  historian,  the  moralist 
and  the  philosopher  can,  and  ought  to,  say  is  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  want  both  the  two  at  once;  and  to  seek  to  in- 
crease indefinitely,  at  the  same  time,  these  two  good  things. 
Present  events  furnish  conclusive  proof  of  this.  Have  we 
not,  for  the  last  two  years,  seen  returning  among  us  what 
one  considered  as  the  phantoms  of  ages  for  ever  dead; 
sumptuary  laws;  restrictions  upon  international  commerce 
and  on  the  consumption  of  goods;  the  taxation  of  prices  and 
wages?  Have  we  not  seen  all  at  once  thrift,  economy,  sim- 
plicity, the  limitation  of  needs,  become  once  more  civic  vir- 
tues, exalted,  as  at  the  time  of  Caesar  and  Augustus,  by 
even  those  who  used  to  wish  to  banish  them,  in  the  name 
of  progress,  from  the  world?  Have  we  not  been  obliged 
abruptly,  from  one  day  to  the  next,  by  the  force  of  circum- 
stances, to  revert  to  methods  and  ideas  created  by  periods 
which  had  subordinated  economic  activity  to  ideals  of  moral 
perfection?  And  what  does  this  inspired  volte  face  signify, 
save  that,  whatever  he  may  do,  the  moment  will  always 
come  when  man,  if  he  do  not  do  it  spontaneously,  will  be 
obliged  by  the  very  laws  of  life  to  choose  between  the  two 
ideals?  The  whole  question  for  him  then  reduces  itself 
into  knowing  whether  he  will  choose  by  force,  that  is  to  say, 
ill,  by  suffering,  and  without  gain;  or  if  he  will  choose 


TEUTONISM  AND  LATINISM  81 

spontaneously  according  to  an  organic  and  exalted  concept 
of  life  and  its  aims. 

All  these  truths  are  very  simple.  But  it  was  perhaps  not 
profitless  to  expound  them  at  a  moment  when  the  minds  of 
men  are  so  disturbed.  They  will  be  able  in  any  case  to 
assist  some  readers  to  profit  by  the  experience  of  the  author, 
who  has  himself,  at  the  outset,  run  the  risk  of  losing  himself 
in  the  fog  of  this  great  intellectual  and  moral  confusion; 
and  who,  thanks  to  these  simple  truths,  has  at  least  suc- 
ceeded in  avoiding  the  misfortune  of  being  an  admirer  of 
the  German  system  in  the  years  which  preceded  the  w^ar. 


CHAPTER  III 
Ancient  Rome  and  Modern  Culture 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE 

I 

Standing  on  the  Capitol,  the  sacred  hill  of  Rome,  after  a 
long  absence  spent  in  foreign  travel,  I  recall  the  time, 
already  far  distant,  when  I  finally  took  the  resolution  of 
writing  a  new  history  of  Rome!  Perhaps  none  of  these 
memories  is  sweeter  to  me  than  that  of  the  anxieties,  the 
uncertainties,  the  doubts  which,  at  the  moment  of  departure, 
thronged  about  my  path  to  hold  me  back.  *'  Why  write  a 
new  history  of  Rome?  Is  it  to  be  presumed  that  our  age, 
which  rushes  forward  towards  the  future  with  such  tre- 
mendous impetus,  should  find,  in  the  midst  of  this  un- 
bridled career,  the  necessary  leisure  to  turn  its  head,  were 
it  but  for  a  moment,  and  contemplate  a  past  so  remote? 
Is  the  moment  really  come  to  write  this  new  history  of 
Rome?  Has  not  history  now  entered  upon  its  scientific 
phase,  and  is  it  not  consequently  bound  to  prepare  the  new 
synthesis  by  a  long  and  minute  analysis?  " 

At  the  moment  of  departure  I  was  not  in  a  position  to 
reply  to  these  misgivings  with  precision  and  with  assurance ; 
which  would  have  been  serious  if  history  were,  indeed,  as 
some  claim,  a  pure  science,  whose  methods  should  be  rigor- 
ously controllable  and  strictly  obligatory.  But,  luckily,  his- 
tory is,  or  can  be,  something  more  than  a  science ;  it  can  be 
an  art  capable  of  acting  in  various  ways  upon  the  spirit  of 
men,  on  their  dispositions  and  on  their  tendencies.  It  can, 
then,  be  a  form  of  action ;  and  action,  when  it  has  a  raison 
d'etre,  always  ends  by  becoming  conscious  of  this  in  propor- 
tion as  it  attains  its  goal.  It  is  thus  that  I  found  the  answer 
to  these  distressing  questions  along  the  world-roads;  and 

85 


86       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

for  that  reason  it  seems  to  me  I  cannot  better  celebrate  this 
kind  of  symbolic  return  than  in  bringing  from  the  world 
which  I  have  travelled,  in  all  senses,  to  extol  the  glory  of 
Rome,  a  reply,  which  involves  one  of  the  most  disputed 
questions  of  modern  culture.  And  it  is  this.  Roman  his- 
tory is  inexhaustible,  immortal,  privileged,  and  never  can 
it  be  too  much  rewritten,  especially  by  those  who  are  the 
children  of  Rome;  especially  by  Italy,  her  eldest  daughter; 
because  it  is  complete  and  synthetic;  because,  when  we  em- 
brace in  a  glance  the  events  of  the  centuries  from  the  Punic 
wars  to  the  final  schism  between  the  Orient  and  the  Occi- 
dent, we  observe,  distended  upon  this  immense  panorama 
of  two  imposing  social  dissolutions  and  an  imposing  recom- 
position,  that  which  we  could  almost  define  as  the  woof  of 
universal  history. 

How,  in  reality,  does  the  history  of  Rome  commence? 
Not  by  chaos,  like  the  Biblical  history  of  the  universe,  but 
by  order;  that  is  to  say,  by  interior  peace;  by  political  dis- 
cipline; by  a  well-established  equilibrium  of  fortunes,  all, 
moreover,  modest,  and  almost  all  rooted  in  the  soil.  In  all 
Italy,  in  the  open  country  as  in  the  towns,  which  have  not 
yet  forgotten  their  origins ;  in  the  midst  of  the  rural  popula- 
tions as  in  the  middle  classes  and  the  residue  of  the  local 
noblesse;  this  peace,  this  discipline,  this  equilibrium,  are 
maintained  by  means  of  laws,  of  religion,  of  munificence, 
of  the  half-divine  prestige  of  victories,  of  a  high  reputation 
for  wisdom,  by  the  small  aristocracy  of  Rome,  which  thence- 
forth reigns  over  the  peninsula.  It  is  a  hereditary  but  not 
exclusive  aristocracy;  puritan  and  devout;  avaricious  and 
uncouth ;  preoccupied  only  with  having  in  its  hands  the  most 
efficacious  instruments  of  domination,  .  .  .  landed  prop- 
erty, law,  diplomacy,  religion,  government  and  soldiery; 
indifferent  or  defiant  in  regard  to  all  else;  to  philosophy  as 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      87 

to  art;  to  Greek  culture  as  to  Asiatic  creeds;  to  luxury  as 
to  enjoyment;  resolved  to  seclude  itself,  with  all  the  Italic 
races,  which  venerate  it  as  an  Olympus  of  demigods,  in  the 
ancient  religion  and  the  ancestral  traditions;  to  confine 
itself  within  the  limits  of  that  Italy  which  it  has  conquered 
with  such  severe  toil,  and,  within  those  limits,  to  struggle 
against  the  destiny  which  impels  it  toward  the  empire  of  the 
world.  The  energy  with  which  it  resists  destiny  is  great: 
but  the  moment  arrives  when  the  force  of  circumstances 
breaks  down  its  resistance.  What  a  change  then!  From 
the  second  Punic  war  onwards  the  equilibrium  of  the  ancient 
society  changes  under  the  action  of  the  two  most  formidable 
revolutionary  powers  w^hich  in  all  ages,  modify  the  face 
of  the  world;  new  needs  and  new  ideas.  After  the  empire 
has  extended  beyond  the  seas,  after  its  riches  are  increased, 
after  points  of  contact  are  multiplied  with  the  refined  civil- 
ization of  the  Hellenized  East,  there  grow  up,  in  all  the 
social  ranks,  generations  avid  for  facile  gains;  indocile, 
aspiring  to  a  wider  and  more  gladsome  existence,  desiring 
a  broader  culture.  Many  ancient  fortunes  go  down  in  the 
current  of  the  new  prodigality,  many  new  fortunes  arise 
from  it.  The  aristocracy  grows  impoverished  or  depraved ; 
or,  disgusted,  isolates  itself  in  regret  for  the  good  old  times; 
or  flings  itself  into  exoticism.  And  thus,  little  by  little, 
the  ancient  moral  unity  disappears ;  the  very  foundations  of 
the  State  are  split. 

Everywhere,  in  religion,  in  the  family,  in  the  Republic, 
discipline  breaks  down.  The  order  of  knights,  pufTed  up 
by  riches ;  the  middle  classes,  invigorated  by  ambitions  and 
embittered  by  poverty;  revolt  against  the  nobility  revered 
for  so  many  centuries ;  interests,  which  the  power  of  a  class 
sure  of  its  dominion  no  longer  holds  in  check,  engage  in  a 
fierce  struggle  among  themselves,  in  the  very  heart  of  the 


88        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

State,  and  rend  it  more;  little  by  little  gold  corrupts  all; 
and,  for  the  spoiling  of  that  which  gold  has  not  the  power 
to  corrupt,  there  is  suspicion;  the  sombre  pessimism  which 
poisons  souls ;  so  that  there  is  nothing  which  is  not,  or  which 
does  not  appear  to  be,  incurably  rotten.  To  the  ancient 
social  harmony  there  succeeds  a  furious  scission  of  factions 
and  coteries  animated  by  bitter  hatreds,  each  of  which  up- 
braids in  the  others  its  own  vices.  Greek  culture  pene- 
trates and  diffuses  itself  easily  in  this  society,  already  so 
disturbed  by  discords,  distrust,  and  indiscipline;  but,  at  the 
same  time  as  it  refines  or  strengthens  the  intellects,  it  in- 
creases the  disorder.  Gusts  of  revolutionary  fury  pass  over 
Rome  and  Italy ;  and  to  such  an  extent  that,  during  the  first 
twenty  years  of  the  century  which  precedes  the  Christian 
era,  the  pious  republic  of  Camillus  and  Fabricius  seems  to 
dissolve  into  bankruptcy,  anarchy,  defeats ;  into  the  sense- 
less rage  of  dissensions,  and,  finally,  into  civil  war.  How 
many  times,  in  these  fatal  years,  did  not  even  the  most 
intrepid  spirits  fear  that  over  this  sacred  hill,  in  that  Forum 
where  today,  with  a  filial  piety,  we  seek  for  the  relics  of 
those  ages,  there  should  pass,  as  over  the  ground  where 
Carthage  stood,  the  cultivators'  plough,  obliterating  for  ever 
the  last  vestiges  of  the  nefarious  and  blood-soaked  city ! 

A  terrible  man,  Scylla,  saves  the  Empire  by  recreating 
for  it  an  army  by  dint  of  money  and  pillage ;  and  restoring, 
with  this  army,  by  strength  of  terror,  a  rough  social  dis- 
cipline. But,  once  he  has  gone,  and  in  proportion  as  the 
treasures  of  Mithridates,  conquered  by  Lucullus,  are  trans- 
ported to  Italy,  the  fever  for  sudden  gains,  the  frenzy  of 
luxury,  the  ambition  for  conquests,  little  by  little  breaks  out 
again.  For  a  moment  this  aged  State  seems  to  recover  a 
fresh  vigour.  Pompey,  following  the  example  of  Lucullus, 
conquers  Syria;  the  dominant  oligarchy  wishes  to  enrich 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     89 

itself  in  the  provinces  and  among  foreign  potentates;  those 
who  are  not  able  to  conquer  an  Empire  levy  contributions 
on  the  States  and  small  principalities  which  tremble  before 
the  shadow  of  Rome;  the  courts  of  the  petty  Eastern  kings, 
such  as  that  of  the  Ptolemies  at  Alexandria,  are  invaded 
by  ravenous  knights  and  senators,  who,  after  extorting 
money,  return  to  spend  it  in  Italy,  where  luxury  makes  rapid 
progress ;  and,  with  luxury,  debts ;  and,  with  debts,  the  hel- 
lenistic  and  oriental  cultures ;  meanwhile,  amid  the  incessant 
agitations  of  this  age,  there  growls  up  and  pursues  his  way 
the  fatal  man,  Csesar.  The  day  comes  w^hen  finally  this 
predestined  man  crosses  the  Alps  and  invades  Gaul,  bristling 
with  forests  and  armies,  to  seek  there  glory  and  treasure. 
The  State  then  falls  into  the  power  of  parties,  greedy,  auda- 
cious, energetic,  unscrupulous;  but  changeable  as  the  inter- 
ests which  they  serve  and  of  which  they  make  use :  and 
these  parties,  by  their  continual  quick  changes  and  restless, 
underhand  dealings,  corrode  in  the  aged  State  the  scanty 
disciplme  which  Scylla  had,  with  great  difficulty,  re-estab- 
lished. 

After  thirty  and  more  years  of  such  a  peace,  barely  toler- 
able and  laboriously  maintained,  there  recommences  a  civil 
war,  or,  to  put  it  better,  a  frightful  tempest  which  sweeps 
away  first  the  remains  of  Scylla's  constitution,  then  the 
dictatorship  of  Caesar,  then  the  Senate  and  w^hat  survived 
of  the  Roman  aristocracy,  then  the  revolutionary  trium- 
virate, as  w^ell  as  all  other  States,  great  and  small,  on  the 
confines  of  the  Empire,  among  them  the  throne  of  the 
Ptolemies.  What  remains  standing?  Ruins  accumulate  on 
all  sides,  men  ask  themselves  if  Rome  be  the  greatest  or  the 
most  wretched  of  cities.  One  of  Rome's  most  lucid  spirits, 
matured  in  the  midst  of  these  vicissitudes,  discerns  every- 
where a  decadence  which  precipitates  from  bad  to  worse : 


90        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

Aetas  parentum,  pejor  avis,  tulit 
Nos  nequiores,  mox  laturos 
Protem  vitiosiorem. 

And  yet  it  is  the  last  step  towards  the  apogee.  After 
this  supreme  ordeal  the  Greco-Oriental  culture,  which  had 
disaggregated  the  ancient  Italic  society,  transforms  itself 
into  a  force  of  social  reconstruction;  it  re-establishes  little 
by  little,  in  the  Mediterranean  basin,  whose  conquest  has 
changed  the  situation,  a  fresh  balance  of  interests,  of  aspira- 
tions, of  ideas,  of  sentiments.  Thanks  to  the  peace,  the 
barbarous  West  learns  to  till  the  land,  to  cultivate  the  woods, 
to  sink  mines,  to  navigate  the  rivers,  to  speak  and  write 
Latin  both  well  and  badly;  it  grows  civilized,  it  purchases 
the  products  manufactured  in  the  old  cities  of  the  East.  In 
proportion  as  the  new  markets  of  the  West  afford  it  outlets, 
the  East  reopens  the  workshops  of  its  industrious  artisans 
and  the  busy  shops  of  its  traders ;  it  once  more  sets  in  cir- 
culation its  former  traffic  upon  the  roads  extended  by  the 
sword  of  Rome.  Thus  the  ancient  oriental  civilizations, 
Egypt,  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  rejuvenate  by  contact  with  the 
young  western  barbarisms.  Between  them  stands  Italy, 
excellently  placed  to  dominate  this  empire  around  the  Med- 
iterranean, w^here  the  West  balances  the  East;  where  Gaul, 
admirably  developed  since  the  century  which  follows  the 
conquest,  forms  the  counterpoise  to  Egypt,  which  has  blos- 
somed forth  again.  For  the  first  time  the  Mediterranean 
becomes  as  an  immense  and  tranquil  forum  where,  under 
Roman  supervision,  Europe,  Africa  and  Asia  come  into 
contact,  exchange  their  produce,  their  customs,  their  ideas. 
From  this  an  easy  peace  originates,  in  Gaul,  in  Asia  Minor, 
in  Spain,  in  Northern  Africa,  —  new  middle  classes,  new 
provincial  aristocracies;  while  at  Rome  the  last  remains  of 
the  old  Roman  aristocracy,  of  that  aristocracy  which,  by 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     91 

tradition,  occupied  itself  only  with  war  and  politics,  ends 
by  dying  out.  The  new  aristocratic  families,  recruited  in 
the  provinces,  replace  it.  They  have  received  a  vigorous 
Roman  education,  they  have  sought  to  assimilate  the  ideas 
and  manners  of  the  old  aristocracy  of  the  Urbs,  But  the 
tendencies  of  the  age  make  themselves  felt;  the  military 
and  political  spirit  declines  in  this  new  aristocracy;  pre- 
occupations as  to  culture,  administration,  justice,  urban  civil- 
ization, a  keen  inclination  towards  Hellenism,  grow  and 
gather  force.  This  is  the  reason  why,  by  degrees,  one  fam- 
ily, which  seems  to  fear  its  own  fortune,  is  obliged  to  assume 
all  the  privileges  and  all  the  responsibilities  shared  during 
many  centuries  among  numbers  of  noble  families.  We 
shall  never  understand  the  history  of  Rome  if  we  do  not 
understand  that  the  Julia-Claudian  family  was  obliged  to 
assume  and  exercise,  in  spite  of  itself,  a  power  which,  in- 
sensibly, became  monarchical,  in  the  same  way  as  the  Roman 
nobility  had  been  obliged  to  found,  in  spite  of  itself,  the 
Empire  of  which  it  was  afraid. 

There  is  summed  up  in  this  contradiction  what  might  be 
called  the  philosophical  essence  of  Roman  history;  since  it 
was  the  destiny  of  Rome  to  perish  through  its  conquests. 
It  is,  in  fact,  soon  annihilated  by  the  Empire  it  has  founded. 
In  proportion  as  the  East  flourishes  once  more  and  the  West 
expands;  in  proportion  as  the  prosperity,  the  number  and 
the  power  of  the  middle  classes  and  the  provincial  aristocra- 
cies increase;  the  immense  Empire  assumes  the  form,  no 
longer  of  a  formidable  engine  of  political  and  military  do- 
minion, but  of  one  of  those  highly  refined  urban  States  that 
Hellenism  had  produced  in  the  East.  Created  by  a  puritan 
and  strictly  national  aristocracy  of  diplomatists  and  war- 
riors, the  Empire  falls  into  the  power  of  an  aristocracy  and 
bureaucracy,  cosmopolitan,  pacifist,  lettered,  philosophical; 


92        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

whose  amalgamation  is  effected  throughout  the  Empire,  not 
any  longer  by  a  real  or  imaginary  community  of  origins, 
traditions  and  history,  but  by  a  brilliant,  though  superficial, 
literary  and  philosophical  culture,  and  by  the  political  re- 
ligion of  the  Empire  and  the  emperor.  The  force  of  co- 
hesion which  internally  binds  together  the  enormous  bulk  of 
the  Empire  is  no  longer  merely  warfare  and  law;  it  is, 
above  all,  the  urban  civilization  of  the  Hellenized  East. 
In  the  same  way  as  the  Emperor  at  Rome,  so  do  the  rich 
families  in  the  provinces  dispense  part  of  their  wealth  to 
beautify  the  cities;  to  increase  the  profits,  the  comforts  and 
pleasures  of  the  people;  they  build  palaces,  villas,  theatres, 
temples,  baths,  aqueducts;  they  are  liberal  of  corn,  oil, 
amusements,  money ;  they  endow  public  services  or  establish 
charitable  foundations.  The  Empire  is  covered  with  great 
and  small  cities,  which  rival  each  other  in  splendour  and 
beauty;  all  expand  through  the  constant  influx  of  the  poor 
populations  of  the  campaigns,  of  artisans,  of  peasants  grown 
rich.  Schools  are  opened  wherein  the  young  of  the  middle 
class,  by  learning  rhetoric,  literature,  philosophy,  and  law, 
prepare  themselves  for  the  bureaucratic  functions  which, 
from  generation  to  generation,  increase  and  ramify.  It  is 
this  lettered  and  philosophical  bureaucracy  which  introduces 
into  the  Roman  law,  originally  empiric,  the  philosophical 
and  systematic  spirit;  which  introduces  into  the  adminis- 
tration, originally  authoritative,  the  juridic  spirit.  And  it 
is  thus  that,  during  the  second  century,  the  Empire  displays, 
in  the  sunshine  of  the  Pax  Romana  which  illumines  the 
world,  its  innumerable  cities  all  resplendent  with  marbles. 
But,  alas,  for  but  a  brief  period;  for  a  fresh  dissolution 
commences.  The  urban  and  cosmopolitan  civilization  which 
had  linked,  one  with  another,  the  various  parts  of  this  incon- 
gruous empire,  begins,  in  the  course  of  the  third  century, 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     93 

to  act  as  a  dissolvent  force,  which  throws  this  brilHant 
w^orld  back  into  the  chaos  from  which  it  had  drawn  it. 
Little  by  little,  with  the  spontaneous  growth  of  the  cities 
and  of  their  luxury,  that  which  the  urban  civilization  con- 
sumes, exceeds  the  fertility  of  the  campaigns,  and  these 
become  depopulated;  drained  by  the  cities  which  absorb 
their  population  and  their  wealth.  What  human  force  will 
ever  drive  from  the  cities  the  rural  populations  after  they 
have  once  tasted  the  conveniences,  the  pleasures,  and  the 
vices,  of  a  refined  civilization?  Hereafter  the  Empire  is 
devoured  alive  by  the  cities  which  swarm  upon  its  enormous 
body.  To  nourish  the  populations  which  there  crowd  to- 
gether; to  amuse  them  and  to  dress  them,  the  campaigns 
are  harassed  by  a  terrible  fiscal  regimen;  agriculture  is 
ruined;  the  material  arts  perish;  finances  break  down;  the 
administration  falls  into  disorder;  and  soon  the  day  will 
come  when  within  the  empire,  by  a  monstrous  inversion  of 
the  natural  relations  of  things,  the  craftsmen  of  pleasure 
and  luxury  will  multiply  endlessly,  while  there  will  no 
longer  be  any  peasants  to  till  the  fields,  any  bakers  to  make 
the  bread,  any  sailors  to  plough  the  seas,  any  soldiers  to 
defend  the  frontiers.  It  is  the  beginning  of  a  social  dis- 
solution, the  history  of  which  is  not  yet  written;  in  the 
midst  of  which  there  supervenes  the  greatest  moral  fer- 
mentations the  world  has  ever  undergone  for  the  mysticism, 
the  cosmopolitanism,  the  antimilitarism,  the  conflict  which 
causes  the  old  educated  classes  and  the  ancient  Greco- 
Roman  culture  to  clash  with  the  barbarians,  who  invade 
the  empire  from  without  and  from  below,  as  well  as  the 
innumerable  religious  aberrations  in  formation;  culminates 
in  Christianity,  which  elaborates  a  superior  morality,  but 
whose  spirit  denies  the  very  essence  of  the  Empire;  and 
destroys   the  vital  substance  of  that  ancient  civilization. 


94        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

The  Empire  defends  itself  with  the  fury  of  despair,  but 
without  success.  East  and  West  separate,  and  the  West, 
abandoned  to  itself,  falls  into  decay.  The  greatest  of  the 
w^orks  of  Rome,  its  empire  of  the  West,  covers  with  its 
ruins  the  immense  territory  which  borders  upon  the  Rhine 
and  Danube;  enormous  ruins  of  fallen  monuments,  peoples 
returned  to  barbarism,  arts  abolished,  languages  forgotten, 
laws  torn  to  pieces  or  mutilated,  roads,  villages,  cities,  oblit- 
erated from  the  face  of  the  earth  and  reabsorbed  by  the 
primeval  forest  which,  slow  and  tenacious,  puts  forth  its 
shoots  in  this  cemetery  of  a  civilization,  that  covers  the 
colossal  bones  of  Rome. 


II 

Such  is  the  tree  which  sprang  from  the  little  seed  sown 
in  this  Roman  soil.  For  centuries  this  tree  has  been  felled. 
Why,  then,  do  men  yet  come,  from  all  parts,  to  dig  with 
ardent  curiosity  in  the  place  where  it  had  its  roots?  Be- 
cause in  none  of  the  States  which,  in  turn,  predominated 
could  the  forces  of  dissolution  and  reconstruction,  which 
make  and  unmake  civilizations,  operate  during  so  long  a 
series  of  centuries  with  so  much  liberty  as  at  Rome,  without 
being  either  retarded  or  accelerated  by  exterior  perils  and 
shocks.  Because  of  this,  Rome  is  truly  a  unique  phenome- 
non in  the  history  of  the  world.  From  the  destruction  of 
■Carthage,  until  far  on  to  the  most  calamitous  period  of  its 
decadence,  Rome  had  doubtless  some  severe  alarms:  yet 
she  never  experienced  serious  and  lasting  exterior  dangers. 
Therefore  she  could  yield  herself  to  the  operation  of  the 
internal  forces  which,  from  century  to  century,  intervened 
to  modify  her;  and  for  this  reason  her  history  is,  as  I  have 
said,  a  complete  history.     It  exemplifies  how  an  empire  i3 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     95 

constituted  and  disintegrated;  how  a  historic  aristocracy 
is  broken  up,  and  how  a  democracy  can  perish  of  exhaus- 
tion ;  by  what  internal  processes  a  repubhc  is  converted  into 
a  monarchy;  a  mihtary  and  national  State  transformed 
into  a  state  of  lofty  culture,  and  little  by  little  exhausts 
itself  entirely  in  intellectualism,  exoticism,  humanitarianism, 
cosmopolitanism.  It  shows  how  an  authoritative  regime 
ends  by  gradually  enchaining  itself  in  a  very  complicated 
juridical  system;  it  produces  many  revolutions  and  reac- 
tions; a  great  variety  of  repercussions  of  internal  politics 
upon  external,  and  conversely;  we  can  there  study  to  per- 
fection what  is,  perhaps,  the  most  mysterious  and  the  most 
disturbing  of  all  historical  phenomena;  the  violent  moral 
repulsion  which,  especially  at  their  first  appearances,  is 
aroused  by  the  civilizations  which,  later  on,  matured  or 
dead,  are  admired  as  the  chefs  d'oeuvres  of  the  great 
peoples.  Lastly,  we  see  how  a  political  religion  is  de- 
stroyed by  a  lofty  literary  and  philosophical  culture,  and  a 
new  mystic  religion  arises  which  shapes  itself  from  the 
debris  of  this  same  culture;  as  well  as  all  kinds  of  minglings, 
contacts,  encounters  and  conflicts  between  young  and  old 
peoples;  between  ancient  civilizations  and  barbarisms;  be- 
tween different  States,  religions  and  laws.  It  would  take 
too  long  were  I  to  enumerate  all  the  elements  of  universal 
history  which  this  history  of  Rome  presents,  gathered  to- 
gether as  in  a  synthesis,  and,  for  greater  convenience, 
grouped  around  one  centre  which  is  Rome  itself;  whence 
it  is  so  easy  to  survey,  in  its  ensemble,  the  immense  pano- 
rama. But  I  do  not  think  I  exaggerate  in  stating  that  the 
history  of  Rome  is  complete  and  synthetic;  and  that,  in 
her,  all  ages  can  discover  something  of  themselves  and 
behold  themselves  as  in  a  mirror. 

Moreover,  the  history  of  modern  civilization  proves  this. 


96        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that,  above  all  during  the  last  three 
centuries,  after  powerful  States  had  begun  to  reconstruct 
themselves  upon  the  political  compartition  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  Rome,  its  history,  its  literature,  its  military  system, 
its  legislation,  were  regarded  as  an  historical  mirage,  pro- 
jected by  the  past  in  front  of  the  generations  which  sought 
the  road  to  the  future.  It  has  furnished  different  models 
to  all  generations  for  the  resolution  of  the  most  opposite 
political  problems.  In  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  cen- 
turies Rome  is  the  example  which  all  the  great  monarchies 
founded  in  Europe  held  before  them;  in  the  eighteenth  and 
nineteenth  centuries  the  history  of  the  Roman  Republic,  by 
the  fervent  cultus  of  Brutus,  by  the  Scandalous  romance  of 
the  Julii  Claudii  w^hich  Suetonius  and  Tacitus  transmitted, 
fomented  the  opposition  against  absolute  monarchy.  After 
the  French  Revolution  Rome  once  more  supplied- to  mon- 
archy, as  argument  and  means  of  persuasion,  the  Caesarean 
vindications  of  Drumann,  Duruy,  and  Mommsen,  and  the 
panegyrics  lavished  on  the  imperial  government.  It  may 
even  be  said  that  the  most  celebrated  histories  of  Rome 
written  in  the  nineteenth  century  were  only  written  in  view 
of  the  conflict  which  had  begun  between  the  republic  and 
the  monarchy.  And  it  is  precisely  for  this  reason  that,  the 
struggle  between  these  two  political  principles  having  grown 
weaker  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
not  only  have  the  histories  of  Rome  so  conceived  grown 
antiquated,  but  many  people  are  persuaded  that  the  interest 
manifested  up  to  that  time  in  Roman  studies  has  no  longer 
any  raison  d'etre.  "  We  live,  they  say,  in  the  century  of 
electricity  and  steam.  The  task  of  our  age  is  to  satisfy 
the  middle  and  the  popular  classes,  who  want,  not  war  and 
revolutions,  but  a  more  secure  and  agreeable  existence.  We 
ought  to  work  indefatigably  to  create  the  prodigious  riches 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     97 

which,  alone,  can  satisfy  the  new  desires  of  such  numerous 
multitudes.  An  ancient  history,  wholly  filled  with  military 
expeditions  and  political  enterprises,  is  inevitably  destined 
to  become  irrelevant  to  a  century  which  needs  machinery 
more  than  laws,  chemists  and  physicians  more  than  warriors 
and  literary  men.  "  To  which  they  also  add  that  Latin, 
which  until  the  last  century  remained  a  half  living  language, 
finally  died  out  in  the  nineteenth  century,  stifled  by  the 
luxuriant  growth  of  national  tongues  and  cultures,  buried 
beneath  the  ruins  of  the  political  power  of  the  Church  which, 
in  idiom  as  in  many  other  things,  had  prolonged  the  Roman 
Empire.  Is  it  not  obvious  that  the  death  of  the  Latin 
language  marks,  for  Rome,  the  beginning  of  a  new,  supreme 
and  irreparable  downfall? 

And,  yet,  when  it  was  practically  demonstrated  that,  even 
in  the  century  of  electricity  and  steam,  it  was  an  easy  thing 
to  reawaken  the  interest  which  formerly  attached  to  Roman 
studies,  many  persons,  to  explain  this  phenomenon,  attrib- 
uted it  to  the  somewhat  violent  remodernization  of  it,  .  .  . 
praiseworthy  according  to  some,  very  reprehensible  accord- 
ing to  others  .  .  .  which  I  had  accomplished.  But  those 
who  are  acquainted  with  Latin  literature  know  that  I  have 
modernized  Roman  history  far  less  than  is  asserted ;  on  the 
contrary,  I  have  returned  to  an  ancient  point  of  view,  the 
point  of  view  from  which  Livy  set  out,  and  which,  more- 
over, does  not  really  belong  to  him,  since  it  is  common  to 
many  other  writers  of  the  same  period.  That  history  of 
Rome,  which  some  have  deemed  so  revolutionary,  is  already 
quite  complete  in  embryo  in  the  short  preface  that  Livy  has 
prefixed  to  his  great  work,  regretting  the  simplicity  and  pur- 
ity of  the  old  manners,  tainted  by  the  corruption  which,  little 
by  little,  invaded  Rome.  In  analysing  this  doctrine  of  the 
"  corruption  "  which  so  long  absorbed  the  Roman  mind, 


98        EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

it  is  easy  to  discern  in  the  three  capital  vices,  avaritia, 
amhitiOj  luxuria,  the  continual  increase  of  the  needs  and 
ambitions  which,  at  the  dawn  of  the  twentieth  century, 
condemn  us  all  to  work  hard.  The  avaritia  is  the  passion 
for  gain;  the  amhitio  is  what  we  call  '' arrivisme,"  the  in- 
controllable  pulsion  by  which  all  men  strive  to  advance 
themselves  to  a  position  superior  to  that  in  which  they  were 
born ;  the  hixuria  is  the  passion  for  ever  increasing  comfort, 
luxury,  enjoyment.  But  if  w^e  thus  disentangle  the  old 
doctrine  of  "  corruption "  from  the  moral  and  political 
prejudices  with  which  it  was  charged  for  its  contemporaries, 
the  history  of  Rome,  with  all  its  revolutions,  its  wars  and 
its  conquests,  .  .  .  that  immense  history  which,  for  so  many 
centuries  past,  stands  out  before  our  civilization  as  a  very 
marvel,  is  easily  reduced  to  a  phenomenon  which  each  of 
us  can  understand  without  difficulty,  since  at  this  very 
moment  this  phenomenon  surrounds  us  on  all  sides.  That 
is  why  the  century  of  electricity  and  steam,  in  looking 
through  the  glass  adjusted  twenty  centuries  ago  by  Sallust 
and  Livy  for  less  modern  obser^'ers,  is  able  not  merely  to 
cast  its  glance  into  the  midst  of  that  terrible  and  confused 
history,  and  discern  its  depth,  but  also  to  recognize  itself 
therein. 

How  many  analogies,  wnth  its  ow^n  existence,  has  not  the 
age  of  steam  and  electricity  met  with,  dispersed  throughout 
that  ancient  history,  which  was  believed  to  have  become 
incomprehensible !  It  has  found,  for  instance,  some  of  the 
struggles  to  which  parties  give  themselves  up  today  in 
France;  certain  horoscopes  drawn  in  England  of  the  des- 
tinies of  the  Empire  and  the  fate  of  the  debilitated  aris- 
tocracy ;  the  conflict,  so  keen  in  America,  between  the  puritan 
tradition  and  the  civilization  of  money.  It  has  also,  and 
above  all,  discovered  the  supreme  law  of  the  doom  which 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     99 

hovers  above  its  own  head;  that  is  to  say,  that  implacable 
and  mysterious  irony  of  life  which  annihilates  in  their 
triumph  all  the  supreme  efforts  of  humanity;  the  tragic  dis- 
illusionment of  all  the  generations  which  have  had  the 
fortune  or  misfortune  to  live  at  a  time  when  an  historical 
era  approaches  its  zenith,  when  a  foreboding  seizes  them 
that  the  better  their  effort  succeeds,  the  more  useless  it 
becomes.  In  the  same  manner  as  Rome  was  destroyed 
through  her  conquests,  losing  therein  her  military  and  politi- 
cal virtues,  her  very  essence;  so  our  civilization,  grown 
capable  of  producing  vast  riches,  thanks  to  a  culture  per- 
fected by  centuries  of  labour,  now  destroys  that  culture 
little  by  little  by  burying  its  noblest  features,  its  art,  litera- 
ture, philosophy,  religion  and  politics,  under  the  illusion  of 
new  riches  prematurely  produced;  by  sacrificing,  for  the 
benefit  of  quantity  appreciable  by  the  gross  evidence  of 
number,  the  quality  whose  standards  of  measure  can  never 
be  defined  in  an  indisputable  manner,  and  which,  for  that 
very  reason,  is  a  perpetual  cause  of  discord  at  the  same  time 
as  it  is  the  sole  source  of  true  greatness.  It  has  found,  in 
short,  in  that  ancient  history,  the  subtle  anguish  that  funda- 
mental contradiction  brings  into  all  the  historical  periods 
which  approach  their  culminating  point.  Just  as  Rome 
suffered  from  altering  her  nature  in  her  triumph,  and  be- 
lieved herself  lost  on  the  eve  of  her  apogee,  so  do  we  always 
deem  our  riches  more  inadequate  in  proportion  as  they  in- 
crease; by  dint  of  wanting  to  make  life  pleasant  and  easy 
we  encumber  it  intolerably  with  complications,  responsibili- 
ties and  duties ;  by  force  of  desiring  to  economize  time  and 
toil  we  reduce  ourselves,  among  the  innumerable  occupations 
which  encumber  our  life  and  spirit,  to  lacking  even  the  time 
to  remind  ourselves  of  ourselves,  and  almost  forget  that 
we  are  men. 


100  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

III 

This  is  the  torment,  and  perhaps  also  the  expiation,  of 
all  the  generations  which  flattered  themselves  that  they  had 
succeeded  in  creating  a  novel  and  unique  destiny,  greater 
and  more  beautiful  than  that  of  all  the  preceding  genera- 
lions.  No  generation  would  deserve  to  undergo  this  tor- 
ment more  than  our  own.  For  this  reason  also,  the  history 
of  Rome  presents  to  us  a  reflection  of  our  own  lives,  in 
spite  of  the  centuries  which  separate  us.  This  is  the  dis- 
tinguishing feature  of  Roman  history,  and  the  reason  why 
all  the  children  of  Rome  must  not  let  it  be  banished.  By 
classical  studies  and,  consequently,  by  Roman  studies,  we 
have  little  by  little  set  up  an  opposition  to  that  practical 
and  positive  spirit  deemed  to  be  the  highest  virtue  of  our 
age.  But  upon  what  basis?  For  answer,  it  is  sufficient  to 
ask  one  question.  Is  it  possible  to  imagine  that  the  progress 
of  the  mechanical  arts  and  chemical  sciences  may  one  day 
result  in  rendering  statesmen,  administrators,  diplomatists, 
jurists,  generals,  educationalists,  men  of  letters,  philoso- 
phers, ministers  of  religion,  of  no  use  in  the  world?  It  is 
very  clear  that  it  does  not  suffice  for  men  to  dominate 
nature;  they  must  also  know  how  to  influence  the  minds 
of  their  fellows.  By  the  answer  given  to  this  question,  the 
much  disputed  problem  of  classical  studies  is  also  settled, 
at  least  in  principle.  It  is  not  the  physical  sciences,  but 
only  literature,  history  and  philosophy  which  can  serve  as 
means  of  intellectual  preparation  for  the  elite  whose  func- 
tion it  is,  not  to  act  upon  matter,  but  to  influence  minds; 
not  to  exploit  the  forces  of  nature,  but  to  regulate  the  inter- 
course of  men.  Hence  it  is  not  possible  to  conceive  our 
civilization  despoiled  of  its  literary,  historical  and  philo- 
sophical culture  any  more  than  it  is  possible  to  conceive  a 


ANXIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      101 

living  being  deprived  of  a  vital  organ.  What  is,  indeed, 
the  essential  difference  between  these  two  states  of  his- 
torical development,  which  we  call  civilization  and  barbar- 
ism, if  not  this,  that,  in  a  civilized  society,  those  who  govern, 
who  administer,  who  judge,  are  endowed  with  a  lofty  philo- 
sophical and  literary  culture;  while  in  barbarous  countries 
and  epochs  they  accomplish  their  functions  by  conforming 
to  old  undisputed  traditions,  by  referring  to  the  simple  pre- 
cepts of  gross  religions,  supplementing  what  was  lacking, 
by  rude  natural  instincts  or  by  blind  passions? 

But  if  we  admit  this  .  .  .  and  I  do  not  see  how  we 
can  refuse  to  admit  it  ...  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
recognize  that,  in  the  future  as  in  the  past,  Rome  w^ill  form 
an  integral  part  of  that  lofty  culture;  unless,  indeed,  the 
peoples  w^ho  are  its  children,  by  an  ill  comprehended  spirit 
of  false  modernity  or  an  access  of  unhealthy  exoticism, 
insist  on  razing  to  the  very  foundations  the  last  remains 
of  its  great  history.  Complete  and  synthetic,  easy  to 
adapt  to  all  periods,  as  facts  prove ;  agreeable  to  study ;  vast, 
but  not  to  such  a  degree  that  it  exceeds  the  comprehensive 
forces  of  the  human  mind ;  this  history  is,  in  a  way,  a  very 
distinct  miniature  or  a  very  lucid  sketch  of  universal  history. 
It  can  thus  serve,  among  modem  peoples,  as  the  crowning 
touch  to  the  education  of  the  upper  classes  which,  every- 
\vhere,  ought  to  commence  with  the  national  literature  and 
history.  Let  us  not  be  discouraged  by  the  transitory  deca- 
dence of  this  intellectual  tradition.  If  our  century  is  pro- 
foundly materialistic,  if  it  goes  on  dividing  and  subdividing 
itself  into  a  great  number  of  different  peoples,  languages 
and  cultures,  it  wnll  have  yet  more  need  of  the  common 
elements  of  culture  uniting  the  elite  of  the  civilized  nations 
more  deeply  than  in  the  momentary  promiscuousness  of 
sumptuous  hotels;  in  the  brief  meetings  of  congresses,  or 


102       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

in  the  universal  mania  for  flying  over  all  the  roads  of  the 
world  in  automobiles.  The  national  principle  is  too  deeply 
rooted  in  our  civilization  for  it  to  be  possible  for  the  modern 
world,  at  least  in  a  near  future,  to  transform  itself  into  a 
Cosmopolis;  but  it  can  not  and  ought  not  again  to  become 
a  Tower  of  Babel  where  all  the  languages  are  confused. 
Therefore  it  also  requires,  if  I  dare  say  so,  an  ideal  common 
language  and  universal  elements  of  culture  which  can  form 
so  many  links  between  the  different  peoples  of  Europe  and 
America.  Where  are  these  universal  elements  to  be  found, 
now  that  religion  has  lost  a  part  of  its  influence  ?  Ancient 
Rome  can  yet  offer  us  some  of  these,  as  is  proved  by  this 
undeniable  fact:  the  history  of  Rome,  with  that  of  France 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  of  the  French  Revolution,  is 
the  only  one  which  is  truly  universal  and  everywhere  read. 
That  being  so,  is  it  necessary  to  employ  many  words  to 
prove  that  the  children  of  Rome  have  an  interest  in  not 
suffering  this  privilege  to  be  proscribed?  So  long  as  the 
history,  the  literature,  the  law  of  Rome,  remain  an  integral 
part  of  the  higher  culture  of  Europe  and  America,  we,  Latin 
peoples,  enjoy  a  kind  of  intellectual  entailed  estate;  we 
oblige  all  the  peoples  of  two  continents  to  be  tributaries  of 
our  culture ;  we  shall  prolong  for  centuries,  in  the  realm  of 
ideas,  that  Roman  Empire  whose  body  has  been  reduced  to 
dust.  I  do  not  ignore  that  our  century  hankers  after  em- 
pires more  solid  than  these  domains  of  the  invisible,  which 
cannot  be  measured,  divided,  enlarged,  or  exchanged.  But 
if,  in  modern  civilization,  the  higher  culture  is  not  destined 
to  become  the  humble  handmaid  of  finance  and  trade,  never 
can  that  invisible  empire  be  abandoned  without  detriment 
and  shame  by  the  peoples  who  have  received  it  as  a  heritage 
from  their  fathers :  all  the  more  .  .  .  and  this  is  a  consid- 
eration to  which  the  practical  spirit  of  the  modem  times 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE     103 

ought  not  to  be  insensible  ...  it  is  not  necessary,  for  its 
conservation,  to  have  recourse  to  the  force  of  arms  and  of 
money,  nor  to  combine  the  efforts  of  peoples,  institutions 
and  parties,  nor  to  risk  perilous  enterprises.  It  would 
suffice  to  reanimate,  both  in  the  State  and  in  the  intellectual 
classes,  a  profound,  sincere  and  disinterested  sentiment  for 
the  great  Latin  tradition,  in  place  of  the  restless,  capricious 
and  litigious  esoterism  which  rules  there  today.  If  the  his- 
tory of  Rome  can  perform  this  unique  function  in  Euro- 
pean-American culture  it  is  due  to  the  fact  that  it  is  a  perfect 
unit.  But,  if  we  break  up  this  unit  into  a  number  of  frag- 
ments, in  what  will  these  fragments  differ,  and  how  will 
they  be  distinguished,  from  the  analogous  fragments  which 
make  up  the  histories,  more  fragmentary  and  more  unila- 
teral, of  so  many  other  peoples?  In  itself  and  by  itself  a 
Latin  inscription  is  worth  exactly  as  much  as  a  Greek  in- 
scription or  a  Phenician  inscription;  a  ruin  of  a  Roman 
monument  is  worth  exactly  the  same  as  a  piece  of  a  wall 
at  Mycenae.  Perhaps,  even,  the  relics  of  Rome  are  worth 
less,  since  they  are  more  abundant  and  relatively  easy  to 
discover.  But,  what  is  unique  in  the  history  of  Rome  is 
the  plan  that  can  be  reconstructed  from  these  materials. 
There  is,  then,  a  safe  criterion  for  estimating  the  studies 
accomplished  relative  to  Roman  antiquity  as  well  as  to  their 
tendencies;  and  it  is  this  that,  when  the  analysis  is  not  an 
immediate  preparation  of  the  synthesis,  it  is  a  method  un- 
duly transferred  from  the  natural  sciences  to  phenomena 
which  do  not  permit  of  it ;  moreover,  it  is  a  vandalism  and 
a  sacrilege,  a  kind  of  destruction  of  Rome  perpetrated  upon 
the  last  intellectual  remains  of  its  vast  empire. 

Indeed,  if  we  seek  the  intellectual  and  inner  reason,  .  .  . 
setting  aside  some  external  and  social  causes  which  are, 
nevertheless,  numerous  and  important,  ...  of  the  decay 


104       EUROPE^S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

of  classical  studies,  we  shall  find  that  it  is  due  to  the  abuse 
of  analysis,  become  an  end  unto  itself  both  in  literary  and  in 
historical  studies.  For  motives  it  would  take  too  long  to 
set  forth  the  studies  of  antiquity,  which  in  the  course  of 
the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries,  arose  from  the  dis- 
solution of  the  old  humanism,  separated  themselves  more 
and  more  from  art  and  philosophy,  and,  in  the  end,  threw 
themselves  wholly  into  the  arms  of  science ;  or,  they  thought 
to  throw  themselves  there;  for,  in  point  of  fact,  they  clasped 
only  a  shadow.  The  results  of  this  error  are  manifest 
today.  In  the  schools  analysis,  carried  to  an  extreme,  has 
given  the  death  blow  to  Latin  which  was  yet  vegetating,  a 
century  ago;  by  substituting  for  the  old  humanist  teaching 
a  philological  analysis,  whose  aridity  has  caused  the  younger 
generations  to  fling  aside  in  disgust  the  most  beautiful  books 
of  Rome.  In  the  domain  of  history  this  excessive  analysis, 
by  arbitrarily  distorting  the  phenomena,  has  strangely  con- 
fused both  the  rules  according  to  which  the  problems  should 
be  stated,  and  the  methods  which  serve  to  solve  them.  It 
has  invented  many  chimerical  problems,  and  it  has  not  seen 
the  true  ones.  By  its  obstinate  resolve  to  know  too  many 
details,  it  has  often  rendered  incomprehensible  even  that 
which,  in  spite  of  the  hiatuses,  was  relatively  clear.  Finally, 
it  has  obliged  history  to  repudiate  art,  and  has  thus  shut 
us  out  from  those  histories  which  at  all  epochs,  by  means  of 
Thucydides,  Polybius,  through  Livy,  down  to  Francesco 
Guicciardini,  had  been  one  of  the  most  forcible  intellectual 
stimulants  of  all  the  aristocracies  truly  worthy  to  govern. 

IV 

Such  are  the  reasons  why  I  think  that  every  man  of  true 
culture,  jealous  of  the  intellectual  prestige  of  the  Latin 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      105 

nations,  should  exert  himself  to  draw  forth  the  Roman 
studies  from  the  silent  cloisters  of  erudition,  to  bring  them 
back  to  the  midst  of  the  life,  the  passions,  the  interests  and 
the  struggles  of  the  world.  Ancient  Rome  ought  not  to  live 
only  in  the  little  coteries  of  scholars  and  archeologists.  It 
ought  to  live  in  the  soul  of  the  new  generations;  project 
its  immortal  light  upon  the  new  societies  which  are  arising. 
For,  on  the  day  when  Roman  history  and  its  monuments 
become  but  dead  materials,  useful  only  for  erudition,  which 
would  classify  and  catalogue  them  in  museums  beside  the 
bricks  of  the  palace  of  Khorsabad,  the  statues  of  the  As- 
syrian kings  and  the  relics  of  Mycenae,  ...  the  Empire  of 
Rome  which,  as  yet,  is  not  entirely  dead,  would  rejoin,  in 
the  Elysian  Fields  of  history,  the  shades  of  the  destroyed 
empires;  would  wander  there  beneath  the  cypresses  in  com- 
pany with  the  Babylonian  Empire,  the  Egyptian  Empire,  the 
Carlovinglan  Empire ;  and  the  Latin  civilization  w^ould  have 
to  submit  to  a  new  disaster. 

Let  us  not  prove  unworthy  of  the  singular  historic  for- 
tune we  have  inherited ;  let  us  understand  fully  what  there  is 
that  is  rare,  and  even  unique,  in  that  ideal  survival  of  an 
empire  fallen  so  many  centuries  ago;  and  which,  eliminated 
from  the  play  of  the  interests  of  the  world,  yet  lives  in  the 
system  of  moral  forces  w^hich  animate  modern  society;  let 
us  not  listen  to  those  who  affirm  that,  henceforth,  the  sacred 
remains  of  ancient  Rome  can  no  longer  serve  but  as  sup- 
ports for  the  aeroplanes  flying  majestically  above  the  silence 
of  the  Latin  campagna.  Let  us  try  above  all, —  we  who, 
for  forty  years  past,  have  brought  within  the  old  circuit  of 
the  Aurelian  walls  the  tools,  the  ideas  and  the  interests  of 
a  quite  recent  civilization, —  not  to  deserve  the  reproach 
that  like  new  barbarians,  we  destroyed  what  survived  of 
that  Empire  of  Rome  that  the  Church  carried  on,  with  vary- 


106  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ing  fortunes  but  without  flagging,  since  the  frightful  catas- 
trophe of  the  Empire  of  the  West.  Roman  tradition  can 
flourish,  a  vigorous  branch,  upon  the  trunk  of  our  civihza- 
tion,  provided  we  do  not  obstinately  resolve  to  cut  it  away ; 
provided  that  we  apply  ourselves  to  preserve  to  Roman 
studies  that  universal  value  which  alone  can  render  them 
an  essential  element  of  modern  culture.  It  matters  little 
if  the  other  histories  grow  old;  what  is  necessary,  on  the 
contrary,  to  Roman  history,  precisely  because  it  serves  to 
educate  the  new  generations,  is  that  it  be  renovated  per- 
petually, not  merely  by  incorporating  in  it  the  new  facts 
discovered  by  erudition  and  archeology;  not  only  by  infusing 
into  it  a  larger  philosophical  spirit  and  by  applying  to  it 
the  ripened  experience  of  humanity;  but,  above  all,  by  work- 
ing to  preserve  for  it,  and  to  increase  in  it,  that  quality 
which  is  the  highest  in  which  a  history,  destined  to  be  read 
and  studied  by  all,  can  excel :  to  w^it :  human  clarity. 

And,  if  such  be  the  obligation  w^hich  imposes  itself  upon 
all  the  devoted  sons  that  Rome  yet  numbers  in  the  world, 
it  seems  to  me  that,  to  conclude  this  discourse  delivered  on 
the  anniversary  date  of  the  foundation  of  Rome,  I  could 
not  do  better  than  perform  an  act  which  will  be  in  some 
sort  a  symbolic  expiation  addressed  to  the  shade,  so  cruelly 
offended  by  the  nineteenth  century,  of  a  man  to  whom  the 
city  owes,  indeed,  some  gratitude  since  it  owes  him  its 
existence ;  I  mean  to  say,  to  resuscitate  Romulus.  We  know 
in  what  a  mystical  penumbra  the  Natale  Urbis  is  enveloped. 
What  beginning  had  the  fabulous  greatness  of  this  city? 
In  all  the  centuries  men  would  have  been  glad  to  rend  this 
mysterious  veil.  But,  century  and  century,  we  were  con- 
tent to  repeat  a  legend,  full  of  poetry,  although  a  little  con- 
fused, wherein  miracles  and  wonders  surrounded  the  cradle 
of  the  city.     Generations  and  generations  had  cursed  the 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      107 

villainous  .Ajnulius,  lamented  the  unfortunate  Numitor  and 
poor  Rhea  Sylvia,  cherished  the  good  P^austulus,  meditated 
on  the  shade  of  the  Figtree  Ruminal,  caressed  in  im.agina- 
tion  the  maternal  wolf  and  saluted  the  kindly  woodpecker 
who  descended  to  nourish,  and  shelter  under  her  wings,  the 
predestined  twins.  That  this  tale  was  a  tissue  of  fables 
the  ancients  had  understood ;  but  they  had  respected  its  out- 
line, at  first  from  civic  devotion,  afterwards  through  a  reli- 
gious respect  yielded  to  old  traditions,  and  finally  because 
they  were  incapable  of  substituting  another  more  exact  ac- 
count. Man  must  so  often  resign  himself  not  to  know ! 
But  then  comes  on  the  scene  the  terrible  nineteenth  century 
which  claims  to  know  everything,  believes  itself  capable  of 
discovering  everything;  and  seizes  in  its  rough  hands  this 
tissue  of  fables,  tears  it,  unravels  it,  persuaded  that  it  will 
find  the  truth  among  the  separated  threads;  reduces  it  so 
thoroughly  to  ravellings  that,  finally,  what  remains  in  its 
hands  is  no  more  than  an  inextricable  medley  of  dead  ma- 
terial. The  ancient  fable  has  vanished  with  all  its  per- 
sonse ;  the  woodpecker  has  flown  back  into  the  sky ;  the  she- 
wolf  has  retired  into  the  forest;  Romulus  himself,  the  re- 
vered and  deified  founder  of  the  city,  is  now  no  more  than 
a  name;  and  all  that  remains  in  place  of  the  legend  is  a 
tenebrous  void  sounded  in  vain  by  ingenious  historians  with 
the  long  measuring  rods  of  hypothesis,  without  their  suc- 
ceeding in  finding  therein  a  single  rag  of  truth ! 

And  yet,  since  Rome  has  existed,  it  is  clearly  necessary 
that  it  must  have  had  a  beginning  intelligible  to  the  human 
mind.  Now,  may  there  not  be  in  the  ancient  fable  a  gleam 
of  intelligible  truth?  After  one  has  cut  away  from  the 
legend  the  poetry  which  enfolds  and  impregnates  it.  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  stands  up  as  a  sufficiently  trustworthy  and  sub- 
stantial, although  very  summary,  account;  that  is  would 


108       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

say  that  Rome  was  a  colony  of  Alba  whence  a  part  of  the 
population  of  that  old  city  swarmed  from  the  mountain 
towards  the  sea.  The  city  of  Rome  did  not  originate,  then, 
from  a  small  village  which  grew,  little  by  little,  by  favour 
of  circumstances.  It  was  a  city  founded  at  one  stroke,  by 
an  act  of  personal  volition,  according  to  a  studied  design, 
in  an  intentionally  chosen  place ;  a  city  which  was,  in  con- 
sequence, endowed  from  the  first  with  an  already  mature 
religious  and  military  and  political  institutions,  since,  on 
the  one  hand,  they  had  undergone,  in  another  more  ancient 
city,  the  test  of  long  experience;  and  on  the  other  they  had 
doubtless  been  adapted  with  discretion  to  the  peculiar  con- 
ditions of  the  new  creation. 

In  short,  this  was  a  city  which  was  born  grown-up,  like 
certain  cities  which  are  founded  today  in  America;  it  was, 
from  its  very  beginnig,  a  new  city  with  an  old  culture. 
This  explains  both  its  marvellous  position  in  Latium,  upon 
a  river,  between  the  sea  and  the  mountains,  and  the  exact 
account  that  the  ancients  kept  of  the  date  of  its  founda- 
tion ;  its  sudden  and  bold  entry  into  history,  and  the  rapid- 
ity of  its  development.  But  if  Rome  was  created  in  this 
manner,  it  could  be  founded  only  by  one  or  several  leaders 
who  selected  its  site  and  who  ordered  all  its  plans  with 
wisdom.  Obviously  this  leader  was  a  great  man.  And 
since  a  founder  w^as  necessary  to  found  Rome,  what  reason 
have  we  to  deny  that  the  founder  was  this  Romus  or  Romu- 
lus of  whom  ancient  tradition  speaks?  As  I  am  accused 
of  so  many  grave  misdeeds  by  modern  criticism,  I  ac- 
knowledge myself  still  further  guilty  of  admitting  that 
the  scanty  knowledge  we  possess  as  to  the  origin  of  Rome 
is  contained  entirely  in  the  ancient  tradition;  and  that,  to- 
w^ards  the  middle  of  the  eighth  century  b.  c.  a  prince  of  the 
family  which  reigned  at  Alba  came,   for  motives  which 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      109 

the  legend  allows  us  with  difficulty  to  guess,  into  this  cir- 
cuit of  hills,  and  founded  upon  the  Palatine  a  little  city 
which  he  launched  into  eternitv. 


I  say  that  he  launched  it  into  eternity :  for  it  is  yet  possi- 
ble to  attribute  to  Rome  the  glory  of  being  eternal  without 
falling  into  the  pompous  hyperboles  of  decadent  rhetoric, 
if  we  mean  thereby  that  what  has  rendered  complete  the 
history  of  Rome  is  the  synthetic  effort,  the  labour  long  sus- 
tained to  balance  all  the  parts  of  its  civilization  into  a  har- 
monious and  proportioned  unity;  if  we  add  that,  thanks 
to  these  characteristics,  its  literature,  its  law,  its  history  will 
be  eternally  the  models  upon  which  all  the  peoples  who 
desire  to  make  of  their  own  history  a  harmonious  synthesis, 
a  complete  whole  which  recommends  itself  by  clarity,  by 
order  and  by  noble  proportions,  will  keep  their  eyes  fixed. 
The  finest  example  of  this  in  modern  times  is  France,  the 
nation  which,  unquestionably,  has  created  the  greatest  his- 
tory of  the  last  centuries.  Profoundly  imbued  with  the 
classic  spirit,  France  alone  has  succeeded,  among  all  Euro- 
pean nations  .  .  .  and,  moreover,  has  accomplished  it,  like 
ancient  Rome,  at  the  cost  of  formidable  crises  ...  in  cre- 
ating a  complete  civilization,  wherein,  as  in  Roman  history, 
everything  is  found,  although  in  a  more  restricted  lapse  of 
time :  trade  and  agriculture,  aristocracy  and  democracy,  the 
monarchy  and  the  republic,  the  higher  culture  and  war, 
art  and  law,  philosophy  and  religion,  revolution  and  tradi- 
tion, the  interior  effort  after  liberty  and  the  exterior  effort 
for  expansion,  all  the  practical  interests  and  all  the  ideal 
aspirations.  If  it  is  understood  in  this  sense,  the  eternity 
of  Rome  is  a  conquest  which,  gained  over  time,   ought 


110       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ceaselessly  to  recommence.  For  if  civilization,  in  its  most 
perfect  expansion,  is  a  synthesis  of  opposed  forces,  these 
syntheses  are  only  prepared  by  long  periods  in  which  the 
sentiment  of  vital  unity  is  lost,  and  in  which  men  neither 
understand  nor  admire  the  circumstantial  phenomena  of 
history.  Now,  without  doubt,  we  live  in  times  when  the 
world  is  becoming  daily  more  unbalanced  in  her  too  greatly 
augmented  bulk.  We  witness  the  final  demolition  of  a 
society  created  on  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  world  by  Chris- 
tianity ;  at  that  demolition  which  Humanism  and  the  Refor- 
mation had  begun,  which  the  science  and  philosophy  of  the 
seventeenth  century  have  continued,  which  the  French 
Revolution  was  to  accelerate  by  its  tremendous  impetus 
and  which  is  consummated  in  our  century  with  a  furious 
ardour,  by  the  progress  of  industry  and  commerce,  the  uni- 
versal mania  for  making  money,  and  the  extraordinary 
development  of  America.  From  this  Immense  revolution 
of  history  in  the  midst  of  which  we  Hve,  from  this  supreme 
dissolution  of  an  order  of  things  so  ancient  and  venerable, 
monstrous  creatures  are  everywhere  being  born :  States  half 
barbarous  and  half  corroded  by  the  vices  of  the  most  de- 
crepit civilizations;  enormous  and  shapeless  cities;  armies 
which  grow  inordinately  in  spite  of  the  rapid  decadence  of 
the  military  spirit;  fabulous  riches  which  accumulate  with- 
out other  object  than  their  own  increase ;  gigantic  industries 
which  are  no  longer  upheld  by  the  natural  stay  of  agricul- 
ture; philosophies  divorced  from  practice  and  dying  of 
asphyxia  in  an  atmosphere  too  rarified  by  purely  intellectual 
preoccupations;  sciences  which  dive  so  deep  into  the  prac- 
tical that  they  are  suffocated  by  it;  arts  and  literatures 
which  claim  to  be  their  own  origin  and  to  have  come  into 
the  world  without  fathers  or  ancestors. 

There  is,  then,  no  occasion  to  be  surprised  that,  in  a 


ANCIENT  ROME  AND  MODERN  CULTURE      111 

period  unbalanced  to  this  point,  the  nations  which,  Hke 
France,  have  succeeded  in  effecting  a  Roman  synthesis  of 
their  various  parts,  are  obhged,  to  maintain  it,  to  make 
efforts  daily  more  laborious;  and  that  all  the  Latin  world, 
Italy  included,  more  and  more  lose  confidence  in  its  great 
intellectual  tradition  and  daily  inclines  more  to  take  dis- 
order for  strength,  confused  obscurity  for  profundity,  in- 
coherent extravagance  for  originality,  wealth  and  its  in- 
creasing mass  as  the  sign  of  the  greatness  of  peoples. 
There  is  no  occasion  to  be  surprised,  perhaps;  but  there  is 
indeed  occasion  profoundly  to  regret  it.  If  then  the  world, 
in  growing,  and  becoming  complicated  beyond  measure, 
seems  to  flee  from  the  synthetic  and  harmonic  power  of  the 
Latin  genius  to  fling  itself  into  a  delirious  orgy^  of  huge 
and  disorderly  forces,  it  is  but  the  more  urgent  for  us,  the 
sons  of  Rome,  to  strain  all  our  energies  in  order  to  subju- 
gate to  the  harmonic  genius  of  our  race  this  horrible  and 
imposing  chaos  of  blind  forces.  If  all  civilization  be  a  syn- 
thesis of  opposite  forces,  the  confusion  of  modern  society 
must  some  day  find  a  more  beautiful  and  wiser  equilibrium. 
What  an  error  it  would  be,  and  how  could  posterity  pardon 
our  generation  and  those  which  shall  follow  ours,  if  we 
should  let  venerable  traditions  of  social  order  and  intel- 
lectual discipline  perish  at  the  very  hour  when  these  tradi- 
tions, rejuvenated  in  conformity  to  the  spirit  of  the  times, 
could  be  of  the  greatest  use  to  the  world  by  reason  of  their 
co-ordinating  virtues;  the  tradition  which  is  summed  up  in 
the  word  "  Rome  "  so  often  repeated  during  these  twenty- 
seven  centuries,  and  with  such  various  feelings ;  at  the  sound 
of  which  I  have  yet  been  able,  in  this  twentieth  century,  .  .  . 
and  it  will  be  the  most  precious  memory  of  my  life,  .  .  . 
to  see  almost  two  continents  vibrate  with  admiration  and 
gratitude ! 


CHAPTER  IV 
Italy's  Foreign  Policy 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY 

I 

Ox  the  evening  of  February  29th,  1896,  General  Baratieri, 
the  commander-in-chief  of  the  Italian  army  in  Abyssinia, 
left  Sauria  with  all  the  troops  at  his  disposal  —  about 
15,000  —  in  order  to  carry  out  a  manoeuvre  whose  object  is 
still  unknown.  This  movement  proved  disastrous.  After  ^ 
marching  all  night,  the  little  army  lost  its  way  in  the  laby- 
rinth formed  by  the  Raio  and  Abba  Garima ;  it  split  up  into 
three  sections  which  lost  touch  with  each  other  and  was 
surprised  by  100,000  Abyssinians,  armed  with  excellent 
rifles.  About  8,000  men  fell,  2,000  were  taken  prisoners; 
the  remainder  escaped  as  best  they  could,  abandoning  their 
guns. 

Unfortunate  as  it  was,  this  defeat  was  after  all  only  a 
set-back.  Only  four  Italian  brigades  had  taken  part  in 
the  battle  of  Adowa  but  the  check  came  upon  the  country 
at  a  moment  of  discouragement  and  anxiety.  Italy  had  for 
some  years  been  passing  through  a  serious  economic  crisis 
and  the  pessimism  which  was  the  result  of  this  crisis  was 
aggravated  by  political  dissensions.  Crispi,  who  had  been 
in  power  for  two  years,  had  not  given  the  country  a  mo- 
ment's peace.  Sicily  and  the  Lunigiana  had  been  placed 
under  martial  law  in  order  to  repress  disturbances  as  to  the 
gravity  of  which  opinions  differed;  whilst  conflicts  had  been 
provoked  both  in  Parliament  and  the  country  by  the  perse- 
cution of  the  Socialist  party  whose  progress  had  alarmed 
the  upper  classes  and  by  the  increased  taxation  proposed  by 
the  government  at  this  critical  time  and  the  conquests  and 

115 


116       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

annexations  made  by  General  Baratieri  in  Abyssinia.  The 
wide-spread  irritation  had  been  further  increased  by  various 
scandals.  The  African  policy  was  especially  unpopular  in 
a  country  which  had  never  been  used  to  overseas  campaigns. 
All  these  causes  turned  a  mere  colonial  incident  into  a  dis- 
aster whose  consequences  were  both  complex  and  profound. 
The  whole  history  of  Italy  up  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Euro- 
pean war,  was,  as  it  were,  haunted  by  the  sinister  memory 
of  this  set-back,  which  had  impressed  the  nation  as  an  ir- 
reparable defeat. 

As  soon  as  the  new^s  became  known,  the  country  was 
shaken  by  anger  to  its  very  depths.  The  Ministry  was 
forced  to  resign,  so  as  to  avoid  the  storm  which  it  had  not 
the  strength  to  resist.  King  Humbert  called  upon  the  Mar- 
chese  di  Rudini,  a  great  Sicilian  nobleman  and  the  leader  of 
the  Opposition,  to  form  a  Cabinet.  Rudini  was  a  man  of 
wide  intelligence  but  not  sufficiently  resolute.  He  decided 
not  to  attempt  to  avenge  the  Italian  defeat,  which  would 
have  been  an  enterprise  fraught  with  difficulty  for  geo- 
graphical reasons;  he  concluded  a  peace  with  Emperor 
Menelik  and  endeavoured  to  quiet  the  people  by  putting  an 
end  to  the  persecution  of  the  Socialists,  and  coming  to  an 
understanding  with  the  parliamentary  representatives  of  the 
Radical  party  which  voiced  the  wishes  of  the  lower  and 
middle  classes.  The  Socialist  deputies  were  at  this  time 
but  few  in  number.  Di  Rudini  did  not  succeed  in  wanning 
the  confidence  of  the  masses  but  only  in  annoying  the  Court 
and  the  upper  classes.  The  masses,  who  realized  that  de- 
feat had  weakened  the  government,  expressed  their  dissat- 
isfaction with  an  audacity  which  struck  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  the  Court  and  conservative  parties,  who  had  for 
some  time  been  haunted  by  dread  of  a  revolution.  Ere 
long  the  Socialists  accused  Di  Rudini  of  tyranny  because  he 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  117 

would  not  accede  to  all  their  demands ;  whilst  at  Court  and 
in  the  lobby s  of  the  Chamber  and  the  Senate  it  was  whis- 
pered that  he  had  come  to  an  understanding  with  the 
Radicals  and  Socialists  in  order  to  set  up  a  republic.  Di 
Rudini  tried  to  make  the  best  of  this  impossible  situation 
which  had  been  brought  about  by  the  irritation  of  one  party 
and  the  fears  of  the  other,  but  after  two  years  the  catas- 
trophe could  no  longer  be  warded  off.  tThe  failure  of  the 
crops  in  1898  provoked  riots  all  over  Italy,  which  began 
in  the  south  and  took  on  a  more  and  more  political  char- 
acter as  they  spread  northwards.  At  the  beginning  of  May 
violent  popular  disturbances  broke  out  in  Milan,  a  city 
which  w^as  ahvays  a  source  of  anxiety  to  official  circles.^ 
The  Socialists  and  Radicals  were  stronger  in  Milan  than  in 
any  other  town  and  the  Republicans,  too,  exercised  consid- 
erable influence,  while  the  lower  and  middle  classes  had 
always  affected  a  certain  indifference  to  the  monarchy. 
Milan  had  moreover  always  been  obstinately  opposed  to 
Crispi  and  his  African  policy.  When  Rome  learnt  that 
riots  had  begun  at  Milan  there  w^as  a  repetition  of  the  phe- 
nomenon which  had  taken  place  after  the  battle  of  Adowa. 
On  that  occasion  a  colonial  set-back  had  been  regarded  as 
an  irreparable  defeat.  Now  agitations  which  could  have 
been  easily  suppressed  by  an  energetic  police  force  took  on 
the  dimensions  of  a  revolution  in  the  eyes  of  the  upper 
classes.  Panic  broke  out  in  official  circles  and  spread  over 
the  whole  country.  The  troops  were  ordered  to  fire  with- 
out hesitation.  Hundreds  of  persons  were  killed  or 
wounded  both  in  Milan  and  other  cities.  Martial  law  was 
proclaimed  at  Milan  and  elsewhere.  The  Di  Rudini  Cabi- 
net resigned  and  was  succeeded  by  General  Pelloux,  a 
native  of  Savoy,  who  inaugurated  a  policy  of  violent  perse- 
cution of  the  three  parties  of  the  extreme  Left  —  the  Snn^^- 


118       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ists,  the  Republicans  and  the  Radicals.  Deputies,  journal- 
ists and  prominent  members  of  these  three  parties  were  ar- 
rested, brought  before  courts  martial  and  sentenced  to  five, 
ten  and  even  fifteen  years  of  penal  servitude. 

Such  a  reaction  could  not  last  and  before  long  the  coun- 
try realized  the  injustice  of  these  sentences  and  a  fresh 
series  of  agitations  began  w^ith  the  object  of  obtaining  a 
general  amnesty.  The  government  made  certain  important 
concessions  to  public  opinion  on  the  subject,  but  at  the  same 
time  tried  to  introduce  laws  limiting  the  liberty  of  the  press 
and  the  right  of  holding  public  meetings  and  forming  asso- 
ciations. A  group  of  deputies  of  the  Right  and  Centre, 
headed  by  Sonnino,  supported  these  measures  vigorously, 
on  the  ground  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  defend 
the  State  against  the  rebellious  spirit  of  the  masses;  while 
the  Radical,  Republican  and  Socialist  deputies  organized 
obstructive  tactics  against  these  proposals  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  necessary  to  defend  the  cause  of  liberty.  The 
struggle  grew  more  and  more  acute  and  developed,  or  ap- 
peared to  develop,  into  a  conflict  between  the  reactionary 
party  and  the  champions  of  liberty,  for,  three  years  after 
the  battle  of  Adowa,  the  government  had  not  the  requisite 
authority  to  break  down  the  opposition  to  its  restrictive 
measures.  The  three  parties  of  the  extreme  Left,  which 
knew  that  they  had  the  country  with  them,  succeeded  in 
placing  the  Cabinet  in  such  an  awkward  position  that  it  was 
forced  to  dissolve  the  Chamber.  The  three  parties  then 
made  common  cause  and  obtained  one  hundred  seats  at  the 
general  election  which  took  place  in  June,  1900,  whereas 
in  the  old  Chamber  they  had  never  held  more  than  fifty. 

This  general  election  was  looked  upon  as  the  defeat 
of  the  reactionary  government.  Pelloux  resigned  and  the 
King  called  upon  Saracco,  an  old  Piedmontese  senator  who 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  119 

was  supposed  to  hold  liberal  views,  to  form  a  new  Cabinet. 
Saracco  formed  some  sort  of  Ministry  and  the  newly  elected 
Chamber  adjourned.  This  was  in  July.  Every  one  was 
well  aware  that  Saracco's  Cabinet  was  merely  a  stop-gap 
and  that  the  decisive  struggle  between  reactionaries  and 
liberals  would  begin  in  November.  The  situation  was  ex- 
tremely difficult  and  obscure,  all  the  more  so  because  the 
King  and  the  Court,  whose  prestige  had  suffered  consider- 
ably through  the  battle  of  Adowa,  had  been  still  further 
compromised  in  popular  opinion  by  the  recent  reactionary 
policy.  It  was,  moreover,  obvious  that  no  government 
would  be  strong  enough  to  carry  out  a  systematic  persecu- 
tion of  the  Socialists,  Republicans  and  Radicals.  But  was 
the  King  likely  to  wish  or  be  able  to  carry  out  any  policy 
differing  from  that  which  had  hitherto  met  with  his  ap- 
proval? Would  he,  or  could  he,  throw  off  all  the  influ- 
ences which  urged  him  to  a  death  struggle  with  the  parties 
of  the  extreme  Left?  This  uncertainty  troubled  the  whole 
political  world  and  still  further  complicated  a  situation  which 
in  itself  was  far  from  simple,  when  fate  solved  the  problem 
in  a  manner  both  unexpected  and  tragic.  On  July  29th  King 
Humbert  was  present  at  some  sports  near  ?vIonza.  At  nine 
in  the  evening  he  left  the  grounds  to  return  to  the  royal  villa. 
Just  as  he  was  standing  up  in  his  open  carriage  to  return  the 
greetings  of  the  crowd,  a  man  who  had  got  up  on  a  chair  a 
couple  of  yards  off,  as  if  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  sovereign, 
pointed  his  revolver  and  fired  upon  the  King,  who  sank  back, 
mortally  wounded. 

II 

It  was  under  such  circumstances  that  Victor  Emmanuel 
III  ascended  the  throne.     Curiously  enough,  he  was  unpop- 


120       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ular  with  the  people.  He  was  supposed  to  have  chosen  the 
German  Emperor  as  his  model  and  to  intend  to  make  war, 
persecute  the  Socialists  and  govern  with  an  iron  hand. 
Fortunately  all  these  rumours  proved  utterly  unfounded. 
Parliamentary  circles  quickly  discovered  that  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  Court  had  undergone  a  complete  change.  The 
elections  of  1900  and  the  assassination  of  King  Humbert 
had  afforded  people  food  for  thought.  All  of  these  causes 
tended  to  bring  about  a  speedy  reaction.  The  Chamber,  of 
which  the  majority  had  after  all  been  elected  in  order  to 
support  a  Cabinet  which  proposed  to  introduce  law^s  limit- 
ing the  liberty  of  the  press  and  the  right  to  hold  public 
meetings,  and  form  associations,  suddenly  saw^  the  error  of 
its  ways  and  brought  about  the  fall  of  the  Saracco  Cabinet 
on  the  ground  that  it  had  illegally  dissolved  a  workmen's 
syndicate  at  Genoa.  The  King  then  turned  to  Zanardelli, 
who  formed  a  liberal  Cabinet.  Once  the  King  and  the  gov- 
ernment had  become  liberal,  conversions  in  the  press,  in 
Parliament  and  in  the  official  world  became  startlingly  fre- 
quent. In  a  few  months  not  a  trace  was  left  of  the  reac- 
tionary policy  of  recent  years,  which  was  abjured  by  all, 
with  the  exception  of  Sonnino  and  a  small  group  of  faithful 
disciples,  prominent  amongst  whom  was  Salandra,  who  had 
been  a  member  of  the  Pelloux  Cabinet. 

The  man,  however,  on  whom  all  eyes  were  fixed  when 
the  new  Cabinet  made  its  appearance  before  the  Chamber, 
was  not  Zanardelli,  but  his  Minister  for  the  Interior,  Gio- 
litti,  who  had  been  Prime  Minister  in  1892,  when  he  had 
tried  to  form  a  great  *'  Liberal  "  or  "  Progressive  "  minis- 
try. In  this  he  had  failed.  At  the  end  of  1893,  when  he 
resigned,  the  exchange  was  at  18%  ;  Sicily  in  a  state  of 
revolt ;  the  finances  in  disorder,  public  opinion  depressed  by 
the  scandal  of  the  Banca  Romana  and  convinced  that  Italy 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  121 

was  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy  and  revolution,  and  that 
GioHtti  alone  was  responsible  for  the  whole  catastrophe. 
This  view  was  exaggerated.  Giolitti's  ministry  had  un- 
doubtedly made  serious  blunders,  the  gravest  of  all  being 
one  of  which  it  was  never  publicly  accused  —  that  of  sup- 
plying Emperor  Menelik  with  two  million  cartridges,  but 
the  condition  of  the  country  at  the  time  of  its  resignation 
was  due  to  profounder  causes  than  the  blunders  of  the 
Giolitti  ministry.  None  the  less  the  people  revenged  it- 
self for  all  it  had  suffered  by  accusing  Giolitti  of  having 
brought  Italy  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin  and  he  had  become 
so  thoroughly  unpopular  that  for  years  he  could  not  attempt 
to  speak  in  the  Chamber.  People  even  got  into  the  habit 
of  speaking  of  him  as  if  he  were  dead ! 

The  curiosity  aroused  by  this  political  resurrection  is 
therefore  readily  understood.  Giolitti's  influence  moreover 
steadily  increased  both  in  the  Cabinet  and  in  Parliament 
and  obliterated  the  memories  of  the  past.  He  surprised  all 
political  parties  by  a  complete  and  sudden  change  of  front 
towards  the  working  classes  and  the  parties  of  the  extreme 
Left.  Hitherto  the  government  had  endeavoured  to  pre- 
vent strikes  by  all  the  means  which  a  suspicious  and  obscure 
legislation,  interpreted  in  accordance  with  the  known  wishes 
of  industrial  magnates,  put  at  its  disposal.  Giolitti  allowed 
the  first  strikes  which  took  place  after  he  came  into  office 
to  take  their  natural  course ;  in  certain  cases  he  even  ordered 
the  authorities  to  assume  a  benevolent  attitude  towards  the 
workmen.  The  Socialists  were  of  course  delighted,  but 
strikes  became  steadily  commoner  and  the  consequent  re- 
monstrances of  the  manufacturers  and  employers  more  con- 
stant. Giolitti  held  firm  and,  when  his  policy  was  discussed 
in  the  Chamber,  declared  plainly  that  the  workmen  had  the 
right  to  strike  in  the  defence  of  their  interests  and  that  the 


m  EUROPE'S  EATEFUL  HOUR 

State  must  remain  strictly  neutral.  It  was  a  revolution  on 
a  small  scale.  In  the  division  on  this  debate,  Socialists, 
Republicans  and  Radicals  voted  for  the  government,  thus 
ensuring  it  a  majority  in  the  House  and  bringing  about  a 
radical  change  in  the  relations  between  the  government  and 
the  parties  of  the  extreme  Left.  On  the  Right  a  group  of 
deputies,  headed  by  Sonnino  and  Salandra,  passed  over  to 
the  Opposition,  on  the  ground  that  the  government  was 
compromising  the  authority  of  the  State.  At  the  same  time 
a  split  took  place  in  the  three  parties  of  the  extreme  Left. 
In  each  of  these  parties  the  majority  asked  for  nothing  bet- 
ter than  to  carry  the  possibilist  policy  to  its  logical  end, 
while  the  minority  protested  against  these  attempts  to  turn 
the  party  into  a  government  party.  The  struggle  between 
the  two  tendencies  was  especially  violent  in  the  Socialist 
party  which  split  up  into  two  factions:  the  Revolutionary 
and  the  Reformist. 

Giolitti  finally  found  himself,  like  the  Marchese  di  Rudini 
before  him,  between  the  Socialists,  who  accused  him  of  a 
hypocritical  change  of  front,  and  the  Conservatives,  who 
accused  him  of  flirting  with  revolution.  This  position, 
which  had  been  Di  Rudini's  weak  suit,  proved  Giolitti's 
trump  card.  Times  had  changed.  The  Court  was  no 
longer  hostile  to  Liberalism,  whilst  even  in  the  conservative 
ranks  there  were  many  who  recognized  that  Giolitti's  meth- 
ods, while  not  without  their  drawbacks,  were  more  suc- 
cessful than  Pelloux's  policy  had  been.  Moreover  the 
economic  crisis  of  1890- 1900  was  now  a  thing  of  the  past. 
An  era  of  prosperity  had  begun,  and  this  prosperity  lulled 
much  discontent  to  rest  and  turned  the  energy  of  many 
people  in  other  than  political  directions.  The  simultaneous 
attacks  made  upon  Giolitti  actually  strengthened  his  posi- 
tion.    If  the  extremists  of  both  Right  and  Left  attacked 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  128 

him,  it  was  argued  that  he  must  represent  the  happy  medium, 
and  in  spite  of  various  untoward  incidents  his  influence 
steadily  increased  during  1901,  1902  and  1903  and  when, 
in  the  autumn  of  1903,  ZanardelH  resigned  on  the  ground 
of  old  age  and  ill  health,  the  King  entrusted  Giolitti  with 
the  formation  of  a  new  Cabinet.  The  Ministery  of  1893 
was  definitely  relegated  to  limbo  and  Giolitti  was  avenged. 
He  formed  his  second  Cabinet  and  to  the  general  surprise 
appointed  Tittoni,  the  Prefect  of  Naples,  who  had  hitherto 
taken  no  active  interest  in  politics,  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs. 

Ill 

Once  Giolitti  had  regained  his  position,  his  one  idea  was 
to  place  it  on  a  sure  basis.  If  we  are  to  understand  his 
policy  and  his  success,  we  must  understand  the  working 
of  the  parliamentary  system.  The  Chamber  is  composed 
of  508  deputies,  elected  by  the  votes  of  the  district.  Of 
these  508  "  electoral  colleges,"  as  they  are  called  in  Italy, 
there  are  perhaps  200  in  which  the  deputies  are  elected  by 
organized  political  parties.  In  the  remainder,  the  deputies, 
though  taking  their  seats  in  the  Chamber  on-the  Right,  Left, 
or  in  the  Centre,  as  the  case  may  be,  do  not  represent  any 
definite  political  creed.  Their  organization  being  either 
excessively  feeble  or  altogether  lacking,  the  candidates  are 
chosen  and  supported  by  rival  -cliques,  having  no  political 
character  and  quite  unable  to  carry  off  the  victory  without 
assistance.  In  these  "  electoral  colleges  "  the  decisive  fac- 
tor of  success  is  almost  always  government  support. 

It  is,  therefore,  possible  for  the  Prime  Minister  in  power 
at  the  time  of  a  general  election  —  provided  he  be  also 
Minister  of  the  Interior  —  to  create  a  personal  party  in 
these  ''  electoral  colleges  "  which  will  return  deputies  whose 


124       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

only  political  program  is  the  support  of  the  man  to  whom 
they  owe  their  election.  It  is  also  clear  that  if  a  statesman 
were  in  power  during  several  general  elections,  this  personal 
party  might  easily  become  the  preponderating  element  in 
the  system.  This  happened  in  Giolitti's  case.  The  first 
elections  during  his  term  of  power  in  the  reign  of  Victor 
Emmanuel  III  took  place  in  1904  and  brought  him  in  a  rich 
harvest.  He  succeeded  not  only  in  creating  for  the  first 
time  a  staunch  and  powerful  personal  party  by  making  full 
use  of  every  means  of  administrative  pressure  w^ithin  his 
reach,  but,  owing  to  the  circumstances  under  which  Parlia- 
ment had  been  dissolved,  in  gaining  the  support  of  many 
Conservatives  without  breaking  with  the  Extreme  Left, 
who  had  lost  twenty  seats  owing  to  the  public  irritation 
caused  by  a  general  strike  which  had  taken  place  just  before 
the  dissolution  of  Parliament.  This  election  added  im- 
mensely to  his  prestige  and  it  was  soon  rumoured  in  parlia- 
mentary circles  that  the  King  wished  general  elections 
should  henceforth  take  place  under  Giolitti's  auspices. 
This  rumour,  though  false,  was  quite  as  useful  to  Giolitti 
as  if  it  had  been  true,  and  established  his  power  on  a  firm 
basis.  The  three  general  elections  which  have  taken  place 
during  the  reign  of  Victor  Emmanuel  III  have  all  been 
during  Giolitti's  terms  of  office  as  Prime  Minister  and  Min- 
ister of  the  Interior. 

Giolitti  thus  was  able  to  strengthen  his  party  and  graft 
on  to  parliamentary  institutions  a  curious  system  of  personal 
government.  The  keystone  of  the  whole  system  was  of 
course  the  fact  of  his  being  in  power  at  the  time  of  general 
elections.  The  fear  of  a  dissolution  of  Parliament,  which 
is  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  King,  was  therefore,  Giolitti's 
most  formidable  w^eapon  for  the  maintenance  of  the  fidelity 
of  his  majority.     The  dissolution  of  Parliament  is  not, 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  125 

however,  a  weapon  which  can  be  constantly  used,  since  the 
Chamber  cannot  be  dissolved  within  a  month  after  its  elec- 
tion. During  the  first  two  years  of  a  new  legislature  Gio- 
litti's  authority  o\er  his  party  and  the  Chamber  as  a  whole 
was  of  necessity  weaker  and  the  Chamber  could  more  easily 
show  signs  of  independence.  Giolitti  got  over  this  difficulty 
by  on  each  occasion  resigning  a  few  months  after  the  gen- 
eral election.  He  carried  out  this  manoeuvre  in  the  spring 
of  1905,  towards  the  close  of  1909,  and  in  the  spring  of 
19 14.  But  if  during  the  first  two  years  of  its  existence  the 
Chamber  was  intractable  even  with  the  author  of  its  being, 
it  can  readily  be  imagined  that  it  was  still  more  so  in  the 
hands  of  a  locum  tenens.  Hence  this  interim  government 
v^as  invariably  weak  and  fell  into  general  disfavour  in  a 
year  or  fifteen  months.  Giolitti's  friends  brought  about  its 
fall  and  Giolitti  formed  a  new  Cabinet.  Two  years  had 
passed  of  the  five  which  make  up  the  legal  life  of  a  legis- 
lature and  the  deputies  were  already  beginning  to  think  about 
the  next  general  election.  Timor  mortis  initium  sapicntiae. 
The  Chamber  became  tractable  once  more  and  Giolitti  re- 
mained in  power  until  the  general  election. 

This  ingenious  game  was  accompanied  by  a  process  of 
attrition  applied  to  the  political  parties  represented  in  Par- 
liament, of  which  there  are  five:  the  Clerical;  the  Sonnino 
group,  which  may  be  termed  Conservative;  the  Radicals; 
the  Republicans  and  the  Socialists,  who  are  now  divided 
into  two  groups  —  Official  and  Reformist.  Each  party  is 
represented  by  from  twenty  to  fifty  deputies  and  is  therefore 
too  small  to  act  alone,  while  coalitions  between  parties  are 
very  difficult  on  account  of  their  numerous  differences.  At 
the  head  of  his  personal  party  Giolitti  was  able  to  induce  all 
these  parties,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  obstinate  individ- 
uals, either  to  give  him  their  support  or  to  form  an  opposi- 


126       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tion  which  would  do  him  no  harm.  How  w^as  any  other 
state  of  things  possible?  The  opposition  of  any  one  of 
these*  parties,  standing  alone,  was  powerless  and  coalitions 
were  never  a  success.  Giolitti's  Cabinet,  moreover,  did  its 
utmost  to  conciliate  every  one  and  to  content  all  parties  and 
shades  of  opinion,  however  contradictory.  It  gave  the 
Socialists  liberty  to  form  syndicates  and  turn  the  railways 
into  State  concerns,  while  at  the  same  time  granting  the 
great  industries  all  the  privileges  and  all  the  protection  they 
demanded  and  guaranteeing  the  landed  proprietors  the  in- 
tangibility of  the  import  duty  on  cereals.  It  increased  the 
stipends  of  the  clergy  and  showed  itself  favourable  to  Cler- 
ical influence  in  the  schools,  whilst  choosing  influential 
Free  Masons  as  Ministers  of  Public  Instruction.  In  order 
to  please  the  masses  it  reduced  the  term  of  military  service 
to  two  years,  refrained  from  imposing  higher  taxes  and 
gave  up  all  schemes  for  colonial  extension,  whilst  at  the 
same  time  increasing  both  army  and  navy  to  please  the 
upper  classes  and  the  Conservatives.  It  allowed  its  officials 
to  form  syndicates,  threaten  to  go  on  strike  and  do  their 
utmost  to  shake  off  the  authority  of  the  ministers,  and  even 
rewarded  these  proceedings  with  a  rise  of  salary.  It  al- 
lowed Italy  to  get  on  better  terms  with  France  without 
breaking  off  the  Triple  Alliance.  It  had  adopted  the  prin- 
ciple of  yielding  always  and  at  once  to  any  fairly  decided 
manifestation  of  public  opinion  or  to  anything  which  ap- 
peared to  be  such  a  manifestation,  while  prepared  to  with- 
draw the  concession  the  moment  public  attention  was 
directed  elsewhere.  Almost  heroic  strength  of  mind  and 
even  cruelty  would  have  been  needed  to  attack  such  an  oblig- 
ing government.  Such  principles  will  no  doubt  seem 
strange  to  most  people  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  system 
of  which  it  was  an  example  has  almost  disappeared  in 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  127 

Europe,  but  similar  governments  have  been  common  enough 
in  the  past  and  in  other  continents.  Caesar  and  Augustus 
vc^ent  upon  the  same  plan:  the  former  in  order  to  achieve 
the  conquest  of  Gaul,  the  latter  in  order  to  reorganize  the 
Empire.  There  are  other  interesting  analogies  in  the  his- 
tory of  Florence  and  in  that  of  the  South  American  Repub- 
lics. Such  a  system  is,  moreover,  the  necessary  outcome 
of  an  electorate  which  is  not  dominated  by  properly  organ- 
ized political  parties.  Sooner  or  later  some  individual, 
family,  or  group  of  families,  will  take  possession  of  the 
electoral  system  and  work  it  for  their  private  ends.  This 
system,  moreover,  put  into  practice  for  ten  years  in  Italy  by 
an  intelligent,  adroit  time-server,  endowed  with  a  clear  head 
and  a  firm  will,  could  not  fail  to  produce  remarkable  re- 
sults. It  enabled  Italy  to  benefit  by  the  period  of  prosperity 
which  the  world  enjoyed  after  1900;  it  eliminated  a  certain 
number  of  abuses  from  the  legislation  and  the  administra- 
tion; and  it  checked  the  antidynastic  movement  which  had 
gained  ground  during  the  last  years  of  King  Humbert's 
reign.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  it  was  under  this 
government  and  in  part  due  to  its  efforts  that  an  historic 
event  of  considerable  importance  took  place:  the  shifting  of 
the  pivot  of  power  from  the  aristocracy  and  the  upper  mid- 
dle classes  to  the  intelligentia,  the  lower  middle  classes  and 
the  masses.  The  dogged  struggle  between  the  parties  of 
the  Extreme  Left  and  the  other  political  parties  which  went 
on  during  the  whole  period  of  Giolitti's  power  was  in 
reality  a  struggle  for  power  between  the  wealthy  and  middle 
classes.  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  whether  this  shift- 
ing of  power  has  been  for  good  or  evil.  In  any  case  it  is 
an  event  of  considerable  historical  importance,  which  must 
be  due  to  profound  causes,  since  it  is  a  universal  phenome- 
non.    We  must  not  forget  that  the  Prussian  aristocracy 


128       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

thrust  Germany  into  the  European  War  for  the  express 
purpose  of  delaying  this  shifting  of  power  in  Germany. 
Giolitti  did  much  to  further  this  movement  with  his  system 
of  personal  government  by  supporting  to  the  utmost  the 
demands  and  wishes  of  the  middle  classes. 

There  is,  however,  the  reverse  side  of  the  medal  to  be 
considered.  The  system  had  many  drawbacks.  Whatever 
its  merits,  this  personal  government  acted  under  the  cloak 
of  parliamentary  institutions  and  this  contradiction  between 
substance  and  form  could  hardly  fail  to  produce  serious 
results.  Discussions,  divisions,  parties,  the  formation  and 
fall  of  ministries,  the  interaction  of  majorities  and  minori- 
ties and  the  elections,  everything  in  fact  which  forms  the 
essence  of  the  true  parliamentary  system,  became  under  this 
kind  of  government  more  or  less  thinly  disguised  fictions, 
serving  merely  to  give  a  legal  sanction  to  proceedings  most 
of  which  were  decided  upon  without  reference  to  the  will 
of  either  parliament  or  the  electors.  At  the  same  time  all 
political  parties  found  themselves  in  a  false  position  forced 
as  they  were  to  adduce  principles  as  a  reason  for  conduct 
which  was  in  reality  more  often  than  not  determined  by  a 
policy  of  parliamentary  bargaining.  The  Socialists  were 
in  the  most  awkward  position  of  all.  The  Electors,  who 
understood  nothing  of  these  complicated  intrigues,  regarded 
their  deputy,  who,  while  in  Rome,  was  on  excellent  terms 
with  Giolitti,  as  the  representative  of  the  masses  and  the 
champion  of  social  revolution.  In  proportion  as  he  became 
more  and  more  opportunist  and  possibilist  in  Rome,  the 
Socialist  deputy  had  to  redeem  his  backsliding  by  becoming 
more  and  more  revolutionary  in  his  speeches  to  his  con- 
stituents, or  at  Monte  Citorio  on  great  occasions,  when  his 
constituents  were  keeping  a  watch  on  his  words  and  actions. 

While  there  were  many  who  found  this  state  of  things 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  129 

quite  congenial,  others  regarded  it  as  both  dangerous  and 
objectionable.  One  phenomenon  especially  proved  a  source 
of  irritation :  the  decadence  of  Parliament.  It  is  an  indis- 
putable fact  that  both  the  Chamber  and  the  Senate  are  of 
less  value  today  than  twenty  years  ago.  In  the  Chamber 
there  was  formerly  a  small,  by  no  means  united,  but  very 
influential  circle,  which  has  almost  entirely  disappeared  and 
been  replaced  by  a  herd  of  provincial  attorneys,  idle  and 
intriguing  university  professors,  professional  politicians  of 
the  lowest  order  and  wealthy  men  who  regard  a  seat  in 
Parliament  as  a  rung  on  the  social  ladder.  This  decadence 
is  even  more  serious  in  the  Senate,  whose  members  are  all 
chosen  by  the  King, — i.e. :  the  government.  In  old  days  the 
Senate  was  a  close  but  select  body.  By  filling  it  with  the 
dregs  of  the  intellectual  and  academic  world,  it  has  been 
turned  into  a  centre  of  intrigue  which  the  public  refuses  to 
take  seriously.  Glolitti's  government  undoubtedly  did 
much  to  bring  about  this  decadence,  for,  like  all  personal 
governments,  its  main  object  was  to  fill  the  two  chambers 
with  devoted  and  reliable  adherents  of  no  great  intelligence, 
many  of  whom  were  easily  to  be  found  in  those  middle 
classes  with  which  it  was  so  anxious  to  stand  well.  To  this 
serious  defect  must  be  added  the  debilitating  effect  on  the 
State  of  the  habitual  weakness  of  the  government  when 
confronted  by  public  opinion.  The  government's  policy  of 
yielding  to  every  fairly  decided  manifestation  of  public 
opinion  and  of  w^ithdrawing  the  concessions  granted  when 
public  attention  had  been  diverted  to  some  other  subject, 
certainly  enabled  it  to  avoid  many  difficulties,  but  it  grad- 
ually enervated  the  whole  State,  which  fell  into  the  hands 
of  ministers,  deputies  and  officials  who  trembled  before  the 
daily  papers,  which  in  their  turn  were  terrified  of  public 
opinion,  which,  failing  to  recognize  in  the  papers  the  reflec- 


130       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tion  of  its  own  ideas  and  passions,  was  led  and  dazzled  by 
the  press  which  it  regarded  as  a  higher  authority.  Where 
are  we  to  seek  the  true  centre  of  action  and  decision  in  this 
vicious  circle  of  fear?  It  is  hard  to  say.  It  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  governments  which  strive  to  please  every  one 
commonly  end  by  pleasing  no  one.  Giolitti's  government 
was  peculiarly  exposed  to  this  danger  because  Italy,  since 
her  unification,  has  had  a  permanent  cause  of  complaint 
which  must  be  recognized  —  one  connected  with  the  great 
transformation  of  modem  civilization  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken  at  length  —  one  which  may  afford  us  the  key 
to  events  which  would  otherwise  be  inexplicable. 

IV 

The  constitution  of  the  Kingdom  of  Italy  was  at  once  a 
political  and  a  social  revolution.  Together  with  parlia- 
mentary institutions  and  bureaucratic  centralization,  the 
new  order  of  things  introduced  what  is  commonly  called 
modern  civilization:  railways  and  industrial  machinery, 
both  of  which  the  old  regime  discouraged  energetically  as 
liberal  conceptions  and  institutions.  Public  and  private 
expenditure  increased  considerably.  Large  sums  were 
needed  for  the  construction  of  railways,  the  creation  of 
army,  navy  and  administration  and  for  educational  pur- 
poses. The  country  was  therefore  obliged  to  endeavour  to 
produce  more.  For  Italy,  too,  the  epoch  of  quantity  was 
dawning. 

Italy,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  neither  very  poor  nor  very 
rich.  She  is  richer  than  the  impoverished  countries  of 
Southern  Europe,  but  poorer  than  the  wealthy  ones  of  Cen- 
tral Europe.  She  is,  moreover,  very  small.  It  is  too  often 
forgotten  that  France  is  nearly  twice  as  large  as  Italy  and 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  131 

that  she  has  a  population  of  thirty-four  million  inhabitants 
to  an  area  of  300,000  square  kilometres,  wholly  devoid  of 
coal  and  almost  destitute  of  iron.  It  is  obvious  that  such  a 
country  was  better  off  in  the  days  of  qualitative  civiliza- 
tion, when  wealth  had  not  as  yet  become  a  prime  factor  in 
the  development  of  a  nation.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  march 
of  history  could  not  be  checked  and  Italy  was  forced  to 
submit  to  the  law  of  our  age  and  toil  in  order  to  increase 
the  wealth  of  the  country.  Her  efforts  were  crowned  with 
success;  they  developed  the  riches  of  the  country,  its  energy, 
activity,  spirit  of  initiative  and  even  its  intelligence,  at  all 
events  in  certain  directions.  The  poor  peasantry  of  South- 
ern Italy  learned  to  tread  the  world's  highways  as  emi- 
grants. The  people  and  the  middle  classes  acquired  the 
habit  of  hard  work,  extended  their  technical,  economic  and 
political  knowledge  and  enlarged  their  ambitions.  This 
effort,  however,  brought  about  in  the  generation  born  after 
i860  the  ruin  of  the  intellectual,  artistic,  social  and  religious 
traditions  of  the  past,  which  had  already  been  partially  de- 
molished by  the  generation  of  the  Risorgimento,  and  was 
one  of  the  causes  of  the  triumph  of  German  influence  which 
had  already  begun  to  make  itself  felt  by  the  generation  of 
the  Risorgimento,  more  especially  after  1866  and  1870. 
The  joint  effect  of  this  effort  and  of  German  influence  was 
to  dissociate  the  generation  born  after  i860  from  the  con- 
ceptions which  the  French  Revolution  had  spread  through- 
out the  world  —  ideas  in  which  the  generation  of  the  Risor- 
gimento had  believed  —  and  to  replace  them  by  a  dreary 
materialism.  A  superficial  observer  might  have  been  de- 
ceived into  seeing  signs  of  a  fairly  active  intellectual  life  in 
Italy  during  the  last  twenty  years.  It  has  even  been 
alleged  that  this  period  has  seen  a  revival  of  idealism  in 
direct  contradiction  to  this  excessive  materialism.     This  in- 


132       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tellectual  life  is,  however,  but  apparent.  The  present  gen- 
eration has  no  thought  to  spare  for  anything  but  how  to 
achieve  an  increase  of  salary,  income,  profits  and  produc- 
tion; how  to  develop  industrial  machiner}^,  increase  the 
prosperity  of  all  classes,  and  ensure  the  progress  of  the 
country,  in  accordance  with  the  crudely  quantitative  con- 
ception of  progress  with  which  the  masses  are  satisfied  in 
the  present  day.  It  has  subordinated  ever}^thing  to  this 
end;  it  has  asked  nothing  of  art  but  money  and  pleasure; 
nothing  of  science  and  philosophy  but  useful  discoveries,  a 
pleasant  social  position  and  teaching  which  in  no  w^ay  ham- 
pers it  in  its  pursuit  of  business.  The  intellectual  classes 
have  enjoyed  a  high  degree  of  liberty,  as  is  always  the  case 
in  ages  which  cease  to  demand  a  high  degree  of  perfection 
in  every  sphere  of  intellectual  activity,  and  they  have  made 
the  most  varied  uses  of  this  liberty.  The  majority  has 
striven  to  acquire  money,  honours  and  desirable  positions 
by  pandering  to  the  public  taste  for  amusement  and  minis- 
tering to  pow^erful  public  interests.  In  spite  of  all  this  a 
certain  minority  endeavoured  to  prove  that  it  could  produce 
work  of  real  value  in  literature,  philosophy,  art  and  science ; 
those  who  took  the  matter  seriously  by  doing  serious  work 
and  the  more  frivolous  by  taking  advantage  of  the  igno- 
rance of  youth  and  the  conceit  of  the  educated  classes  foist- 
ing on  the  public  productions  which  had  little  to  recommend 
them  but  novelty  and  eccentricity,  both  frequently  borrowed 
from  other  countries.  It  must  be  admitted  that  this  second 
class  was  the  more  successful  of  the  two,  as  well  as  the 
larger,  since  it  knew  how  to  exploit  the  ignorance  and  indif- 
ference of  a  day  which  looks  upon  the  tonnage  of  mercantile 
shipping,  bank  deposits  and  the  output  of  blasting  furnaces 
as  the  only  realities  of  existence. 

This  conception  of  life,  which  had  obtained  the  upper 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  133 

hand  in  Italy  perhaps  even  more  thoroughly  than  in  other 
countries,  was  the  channel  by  which  German  influence  was 
brought  to  bear  on  Italy.  Germany's  prestige  is  often  at- 
tributed to  her  victories.  This  applies  to  the  generation 
which  entered  upon  the  Triple  Alliance  in  1882  and  wit- 
nessed the  wars  of  1866  and  1870,  but  not  of  its  successor 
which  had,  moreover,  a  far  greater  admiration  for  Ger- 
many. ■  It  may  safely  be  stated  that  in  the  last  ten  years 
all  Italy, —  professors  and  manufacturers,  Socialists  and 
Conservatives,  free  thinkers  and  clericals,  philosophers  and 
musicians  alike,  had  been  infected  with  Germanophilia. 
Germany  was  regarded  as  the  universal  model,  because  she 
had  realized  the  quantitative  formula  of  progress  better  than 
any  other  nation  and  was  the  land  where  population,  wealth, 
production,  commerce,  army  and  navy  were  increasing  most 
rapidly.  German  order  and  discipline  seemed  admirable 
to  this  generation  which,  by  the  way,  took  very  good  care 
not  to  imitate  them,  because  they  seemed  important  factors 
in  this  giddy  process  of  development,  France,  on  the  coun- 
trary,  with  her  tendency  to  consolidate  her  actual  position 
rather  than  to  develop  it,  was  looked  upon  as  an  effete  and 
decadent  country.  In  spite  of  the  affinity  of  language,  race 
and  culture,  France  had  become  a  sort  of  enigma.  The 
educated  classes  in  Italy,  who  were  becoming  more  and 
more  dominated  by  the  purely  quantitative  conception  of 
progress,  did  not  understand  the  tragic  position  of  a  country 
whose  demographical  conditions,  traditions  and  historical 
tendencies  alike  impelled  it  to  develop  in  the  direction  of 
quality,  whilst  forced  to  do  so  in  the  direction  of  quantity 
by  the  competition  of  its  neighbours  and  above  all  by  the 
preposterous  and  menacing  growth  of  its  foe.  Thus  Ger- 
man influence  triumphed  all  along  the  line.  Everything  — 
army,  banks,  railways,  industry,  socialism,  science,  philoso- 


134j  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

phy,  schools  and  universities  alike  —  became  Germanized. ) 
This  state  of  mind  could  not  fail  to  influence  the  duration 
of  the  Triple  Alliance.  Immediately  after  the  accession  of 
Victor  Emmanuel  III  a  change  became  noticeable  in  the 
tendencies  of  foreign  policy.  The  new  King  went  to  Petro- 
grad  and  Paris,  but  not  to  Vienna.  Prinetti,  who  was 
Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  during  the  first  administration 
of  the  new  reign,  w^as  a  pronounced  opponent  of  the  Triple 
Alliance.  He  often  remarked  to  his  friends  —  and  events 
have  proved  him  a  true  prophet  —  that  there  would  be  no 
lasting  peace  in  Europe  until  Germany  had  received  a  thor- 
ough thrashing.  There  was  clearly  a  desire  to  draw  closer 
to  the  group  of  powers  w^hich  was  soon  to  be  known  as  the 
Triple  Entente.  Unfortunately  Prinetti  fell  ill  and  the  mo- 
ment Giolitti  became  Prime  Minister  with  Tittoni  as  Min- 
ister for  Foreign  Affairs  the  old  triplicist  policy  once  more 
gained  ascendancy.  How  is  this  change  of  front  to  be  ex- 
plained? Undoubtedly  the  Russo-Japanese  War  had  much 
to  do  with  it,  w^hile  it  is  also  possible  that  secret  influences 
were  brought  to  bear. 

Even  without  these  factors,  however,  it  would  have  been 
extremely  difficult  to  detach  Italy  from  the  Triple  Alliance 
so  long  as  the  upper  classes  continued  to  regard  Germany 
as  the  universal  model.  The  Triple  Alliance,  indeed,  which 
had  for  long  been  opposed,  had  come  to  be  accepted  by  all 
classes  of  late  years,  just  when  it  had  become  a  constant 
menace  to  the  peace  of  the  world  and  was  paving  the  way 
for  the  present  catastrophe.  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
the  Cabinet  which  committed  the  outrageous  blunder  of  re- 
newing the  Triple  Alliance  in  19 12  contained  three  Radical 
ministers,  two  of  whom  were  amongst  the  most  rabid 
Germanophiles  in  the  Cabinet. 

Italy  was  progressing  then,  at  least  according  to  the  pres- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  135 

cnt  day  conception  of  progress,  and  she  was  very  proud  of 
the  fact.  Was  she  equally  content?  No.  I  have  re- 
marked elsewhere  that  the  glorification  of  national  pride  is 
a  necessary  condition  of  the  development  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion, which  is  based  upon  industrialism  and  elected  institu- 
tions. Wealth  neither  is  nor  can  be  an  aim  in  itself;  it  is 
and  only  can  be  a  means.  Now  whatever  the  advantages 
ensured  by  modern  civilization  to  the  masses  and  the  middle 
classes,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  these  advantages  com- 
pensate many  people  for  the  burdens  it  lays  upon  them: 
constant  and  strenuous  work,  strict  discipline,  loss  of  per- 
sonal liberty  in  factory  or  office,  military  service,  etc.  It 
was  not,  therefore,  sufficient  for  the  quantitative  epoch  to 
show  the  masses  the  riches  of  the  earth  in  order  to  arouse 
their  zeal  and  activity ;  an  ideal  had  also  to  be  sought  and 
found  in  one  of  the  simplest  and  strongest  passions  which 
moves  the  soul  of  man:  pride.  The  initiative  and  activity 
of  all  nations  was  aroused  by  the  argument  that  the  increase 
of  wealth  was  a  means  of  increasing  the  power  and  great- 
ness of  the  country  and  of  showing  other  peoples  its  own 
superiority.  This  was  the  case  in  Italy.  As  Giolitti's  grasp 
of  power  grew  firmer  and  prosperity  increased,  the  country 
listened  more  and  more  readily  to  those  who,  whether  in 
prose  or  poetry,  told  it  that  Italy  either  was,  or  was  about 
to  become,  the  first  country  in  the  world.  Unfortunately, 
in  a  period  which  gauges  the  worth  of  a  people  by  statistics, 
neither  poet,  nor  philosopher,  nor  statesman  could  double 
the  limited  territory  or  discover  in  it  coal  fields  like  those 
of  Lorraine  or  Westphalia.  By  stre^nuous  and  well  directed 
efforts  Italy  did,  it  is  true,  succeed  in  increasing  her  wealth, 
but  this  increase  was  of  necessity  on  a  more  modest  scale 
than  that  of  other  nations  to  whom  nature  had  been  kinder, 
and  gave  rise  to  constant  comparisons  mortifying  to  the 


136       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

national  amour-propre  which  became  more  sensitive  as  the 
nation  advanced.  Why  should  its  efforts,  which  were  quite 
as  great  and  even  more  arduous  than  those  of  other  peoples, 
be  less  productive  of  results?  Moods  of  self-congratulation 
alternated  with  fits  of  despondency,  during  which  the  coun- 
try attributed  its  inferiority  to  its  frivolity,  lack  of  disci- 
pline, military  weakness,  irresolution,  inability  to  imitate 
the  Teutonic  virtues  and,  above  all,  to  its  government  — 
the  malleable,  easy-going,  prudent  government  which  never 
dared  to  offend  any  one.  The  contradiction  between  the 
form  and  the  substance  of  this  government,  democratic  in- 
stitutions working  in  a  country  which  had  almost  entirely 
lost  faith  in  democratic  principles,  could  not  fail  to  foment 
the  general  uneasiness.  The  intellectuals  and  the  politi- 
cians never  ceased  to  foster  these  opposing  mental  attitudes 
by  propounding  every  imaginable  theory  and  thus  adding 
intellectual  to  moral  perplexity.  The  country  as  a  whole 
was  in  a  perpetual  state  of  self-contradiction,  which  was 
reflected  in  the  behaviour  and  ideas  of  individuals  and  par- 
ties alike,  and  had  made  public  opinion  extremely  nervous. 
This  nervousness  and  this  tendency  to  sudden  anger  and 
equally  sudden  changes  of  front  created  at  times  extremely 
difficult  situations  even  during  the  rule  of  Giolitti.  At 
bottom  the  country  was  really  vaguely  striving  after  an 
ideal  of  life  both  loftier  and  more  complete  than  progress 
regarded  as  mere  increase  of  the  wealth  of  the  world  and 
perfecting  of  the  machinery  used  by  man.  It  failed  to  find 
this  ideal  either  in  the  present  or  the  past.  It  must  also 
be  borne  in  mind  that  Italy  has  not  escaped  the  moral  de- 
terioration and  self -disgust  brought  about  by  economic 
materialism  and  the  dominion  of  wealth  in  all  modern  coun- 
tries in  which  classic  learning  is  not  confined  to  professors 
and  libraries  and  in  which  Christianity  is  something  more 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  137 

than  merely  the  official  religion.  This  explains  why  the 
country  became  more  and  more  dissatisfied  both  with  itself 
and  others  just  when  it  might  have  congratulated  itself  on 
its  progress,  why  Giolitti's  unpopularity  grew  in  proportion 
to  his  power  and  why  he  was  reproached  more  particularly 
with  those  aspects  of  his  policy  which,  by  pandering  to  the 
passions  and  vices  of  the  period,  ensured  his  own  success. 
The  contradiction  was  inherent  in  the  situation  itself  and 
came  to  a  crisis  in  the  Tripoli  campaign. 

V 

In  order  to  understand  aright  this  war  and  its  origin,  we 
must  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  history  of  Italian 
home  affairs  from  November,  1909.  In  March  Giolitti 
had  presided  over  a  general  election  for  the  second  time. 
In  autumn,  when  Parliament  met,  he  resigned,  as  was  his 
wont.  The  leader  of  the  Opposition  at  this  time  was  Son- 
nino,  but  his  party  only  numbered  about  thirty  deputies; 
Giolitti,  who  was  anxious  to  secure  a  year's  rest,  intended 
to  make  his  majority  support  the  Sonnino  Cabinet,  but 
Sonnino,  a  man  of  great  force  of  character,  was  extremely 
unpopular  with  the  majority,  who  obliged  him  to  resign  in 
three  months.  A  more  pliable  man  was  called  to  take  his 
place  —  Luzzatti  —  who,  however,  proved  too  pliable,  too 
impressionable  and  too  susceptible  to  flattery.  He  began 
with  two  acts  of  weakness :  he  included  four  Radicals  in  his 
Cabinet,  two  as  ministers  and  two  as  under  secretaries  of 
state  —  and  he  promised  to  introduce  a  measure  for  the 
extension  of  the  suffrage.  These  two  acts  were  conces- 
sions to  the  Extreme  Left  —  the  party  in  the  Chamber 
which  Luzzatti  had  most  reason  to  fear.  The  former  was 
much  more  to  the  mind  of  the  Extreme  Left  than  the  lat- 


138       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ter.  Ever  since  Giolitti's  return  to  power  all  but  a  very 
small  minority  of  the  Radicals  and  Socialists  had  become 
more  and  more  desirous  of  holding  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment, in  spite  of  their  relatively  small  number,  with  the 
help  of  Giolitti's  personal  influence.  The  example  of  Mil- 
lerand  and  Brand  had  turned  the  heads  of  a  good  many 
Socialists  and  consequently  Socialists,  Radicals  and  even 
part  of  the  Republican  party  were  extremely  pleased  to  see 
four  Radicals  in  the  Cabinet.  It  was  the  thin  end  of  the 
wedge.  The  suffrage  question  was  much  more  compli- 
cated. As  at  this  time  no  one  who  was  unable  to  read  and 
write  could  be  placed  on  the  register,  illiteracy  and  indif- 
ference reduced  the  number  of  electors  to  about  thr^e  mil- 
lion. The  Socialists  had  for  long  demanded  universal 
suffrage,  but  they  did  not  really  attach  any  great  impor- 
tance to  it,  and  demanded  it  mainly  because  they  knew  that 
the  government  would  not  grant  it.  Giolitti  himself  had 
opposed  any  such  measure  only  a  few  years  previously. 

By  these  two  concessions  Luzzatti  had  hoped  to  secure 
the  support  of,  at  all  events,  the  benevolent  neutrality  of 
the  Extreme  Left.  In  this  he  succeeded  but  at  the  cost  of 
gaining  the  ill  will  of  the  majority.  This  preference  for 
the  Extreme  Left  was  not  in  the  least  in  accordance  with 
sound  parliamentary  principles.  As  for  the  extension  of 
the  suffrage,  it  met  with  great  opposition,  owing  to  the  com- 
plicated nature  of  the  system  proposed  by  Luzzatti.  The 
majority  would  gladly  have  brought  about  the  fall  of  the 
Ministry,  but  Giolitti  was  not  as  yet  inclined  to  resume 
office  and  this  time  he  succeeded  in  instilling  patience  into 
his  followers.  The  resulting  situation  was  extremely  curi- 
ous. In  the  Chamber  the  majority  did  its  utmost  to  put  ob- 
stacles in  the  path  of  the  Radical  ministers,  who  were  not 
men  of  any  special  ability;  the  Extreme  Left  in  its  turn 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  139 

opposed  the  Cabinet  ministers  who  belonged  to  the  major- 
ity; while  these  ministers  intrigued  against  their  Radical 
fellow  ministers  both  in  the  Cabinet  and  in  the  Chamber. 
Luzzatti  endeavoured  to  gain  time  by  making  great  speeches 
and  promising  everything  which  was  asked  of  him.  The 
prestige  of  a  government  soon  disappears  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. Giolitti  remarked  once  that  Luzzatti  lost  votes 
wholesale  in  order  to  gain  them  retail.  Dissatisfaction 
became  so  general  both  in  country  and  Parliament  that  the 
Luzzatti  Cabinet  fell  in  March,  191 1,  and  Giolitti  was 
forced  to  resume  office. 

He  had  reached  the  zenith  of  his  power.  Luzzatti's  gov- 
ernment had  created  such  a  universal  sense  of  irritation  that 
Giolitti  was  hailed  as  a  saviour.  The  Exertme  Left  hoped 
that  he  would  form  a  great  democratic  Cabinet  in  which 
many  of  its  members  would  hold  office;  the  majority  that 
he  would  dismiss  the  Radical  ministers  and  abandon  Luz- 
zatti's  sweeping  democratic  measures;  the  country  con- 
tented itself  with  hoping  that  he  would  govern  firmly.  The 
Extreme  Left  came  off  better  than  the  majority.  Giolitti 
even  offered  a  portfolio  to  a  Socialist,  Bissolati,  and  when 
this  offer  was  refused,  retained  in  the  Cabinet  the  four 
Radicals  appointed  by  Luzzatti  and  added  two  more  to 
their  number  —  a  minister  and  an  under  secretary  of  state. 
The  new  Radical  minister,  who  was  destined  to  play  the 
most  unfortunate  part  in  this  ill-fated  Cabinet,  w^as  Nitti, 
who  was  nominated  Minister  of  Agriculture,  Commerce  and 
Industry.  But  if  the  composition  of  the  new  Ministry  did 
not  fulfil  the  expectations  of  the  majority,  its  program  had 
still  more  unpleasant  surprises  in  store.  As  for  the  exten- 
sion of  the  franchise,  Giolitti  brought  in  a  much  simpler 
bill  than  that  suggested  by  Luzzatti:  he  proposed  to  grant 
manhood  suffrage,  with  the  one  provision  that  electors  who 


140       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

could  not  read  or  write  should  not  be  allowed  to  exercise 
their  rights  until  they  were  thirty  years  of  age  instead  of 
at  twenty-one.  He  further  proposed  to  make  life  insurance 
a  State  monopoly. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Giolitti  should  continue 
Luzzatti's  relations  with  the  Extreme  Left  in  his  own  pol- 
icy. He  had  always  striven  to  rally  the  extreme  parties  to 
the  monarchy,  while  at  the  same  time  endeavouring  to  shift 
the  pivot  of  power  from  the  wealthy  to  the  lower  and 
middle  classes.  Since  the  three  parties  of  the  Extreme  Left 
are  those  representing  the  middle  and  lower  classes,  Gio- 
litti might  well  think  it  the  part  of  wisdom  to  give  these 
classes  a  share  in  the  government  proportioned  rather  to 
their  social  importance  than  to  the  number  of  their  depu- 
ties. The  majority,  however,  did  not  look  upon  it  from 
the  same  point  of  view  and  considered  that  Giolitti  was 
acting  even  less  in  accordance  with  "  the  sound  principles 
of  constitutional  law  "  than  Luzzatti  had  done  and  com- 
plained of  being  dispossessed  by  coup  d'etat.  A  struggle 
began  between  the  majority  and  its  leader.  The  majority 
said :  "  I  am  the  majority  and  I  have,  therefore,  the  right 
to  rule.'*  Giolitti  replied :  ''  Yes,  you  are  the  majority, 
but  not  by  your  own  efforts.  I  created  you  and  you  are 
bound  to  do  my  will."  For  the  first  time  the  reality  of 
this  personal  government  came  into  conflict  with  the  for- 
mulae of  Parliament  in  which  it  was  concealed.  The  diffi- 
culties consequent  on  this  contradiction  would  not  have  been 
so  serious  had  Giolitti  not  proposed  at  the  same  time  to 
make  life  insurance  a  State  monopoly  and  to  introduce  uni- 
versal suffrage. 

The  monopoly  of  life  insurance  was  not  in  itself  a 
reform  of  so  radical  a  nature  as  necessarily  to  involve  such 
bitter   struggles.     The   measure   could   have  been   carried 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  141 

without  any  great  difficulty  had  it  been  better  prepared. 
GioHtti  had  however,  as  we  have  seen,  chosen  as  Minister 
of  Industry  a  Radical  deputy,  Professor  Nitti,  and  Nitti 
precipitated  a  political  catastrophe  by  the  carelessness  and 
imprudence  with  which  he  prepared  the  scheme.  In  a  few 
weeks  he  launched  on  the  country  a  scheme  which  was  not 
only  incoherent  and  inadequate  from  various  points  of 
view,  but  in  its  first  clause  decreed  in  a  few  lines  a  sort  of 
total  confiscation  without  awarding  the  insurance  compa- 
nies any  compensation.  According  to  this  clause  all  life 
insurance  companies  were  to  cease  work  at  once  and  stated 
that  no  compensation  could  be  claimed  for  the  loss  entailed 
by  the  new  law  either  by  the  insurance  companies,  their 
employes  or  the  insured.  Such  a  high  handed  abolition  by 
the  State  of  the  rights  of  its  subjects,  such  a  calm  appro- 
priation of  private  property  for  its  own  purposes  was  an 
unheard  of  thing  and  only  an  extremely  strong  government 
could  possibly  have  carried  such  a  measure  and  Giolitti's 
government  was  far  from  being  strong.  The  majority, 
which  disliked  the  composition  of  the  Cabinet  and  dreaded 
the  introduction  of  manhood  suffrage,  promptly  rose  in 
arms  against  the  legal  enormities  of  the  bill,  which  was 
attacked  from  every  point  of  view.  The  protests  of  those 
affected  gained  over  parliamentary  circles  and  ere  long  the 
question  of  manhood  suffrage  was  relegated  to  the  back- 
ground. For  a  time  it  was  hoped  that  Giolitti  would  real- 
ize his  mistake,  withdraw  the  bill  and  sacrifice  its  unlucky 
author.  This  time,  however,  Giolitti  persisted  in  his 
scheme.  He  managed  to  get  it  approved  by  the  parliamen- 
tary commission  which  examined  it  and  laid  it  before  the 
Chamber.  The  situation  went  from  bad  to  worse.  The 
Chamber  was  resolved  to  reject  the  scheme,  but  did  not 
know  how  to  set  about  it.     The  House  had  entered  its  third 


14«  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

year  of  existence  and  Giolitti  was  supposed  to  have  the 
decree  of  dissolution  in  his  pocket.  The  SociaHsts  fo- 
mented the  general  irritation  by  making  it  plain  that  they 
intended  to  profit  by  the  rupture  between  Giolitti  and  his 
majority  to  seize  the  reins  of  power.  The  storm,  which 
had  nearly  broken  four  years  before,  began  to  lower  in  the 
lobbies  of  the  Chamber  and  the  word  "  treason  "  was  whis- 
pered for  the  first  time.  Giolitti  was  betraying  the  mon- 
archy and  had  gone  off  his  head.  Whilst  these  whispers 
were  heard  in  the  lobbies,  the  discussion  of  the  bill  dragged 
on  for  weeks  in  the  Chamber.  No  one  dared  to  attack  it 
boldly,  and  Giolitti  showed  no  intention  of  yielding  and 
he  was  only  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  passing  it  in 
its  present  form  by  Salandra's  forcible  speech  showing  its 
absurdities  and  mistakes.  By  this  time  June  was  drawing 
to  an  end  and  Giolitti  profited  by  this  fact  to  ask  for  a 
vote  approving  the  general  principle  of  the  law,  whilst  post- 
poning the  discussion  of  its  details  —  i.e.,  the  essential  part 
—  till  November,  after  which  the  House  adjourned  for  the 
holidays. 

This  affair  left  the  ministry  very  weak.  The  scheme  it- 
self, the  carelessness  with  which  it  had  been  prepared  and 
the  shifty  behaviour  of  the  Chamber  had  disgusted  the 
country.  The  hopes  raised  in  April  by  the  '*  great  minis- 
try "  had  given  place  to  bitter  disappointment.  Political 
circles  were  more  and  more  absorbed  by  the  scheme  for 
manhood  suffrage  and  the  attitude  adopted  by  the  Socialists 
who  were  now  posing  as  the  next  heirs  to  power.  The  dis- 
satisfied state  of  public  opinion  was  aggravated  by  the  un- 
certainty and  contradictions  of  such  a  paradoxical  situa- 
tion. No  one  knew  whether  Giolitti  would  emerge  from  it 
as  the  triumphant  ruler  or  the  hated  victim.  His  enemies 
were  working  hard.     Just  at  this  juncture  the  "  Panther  " 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  143 

went  to  Agadir  and  the  Franco-German  pour  parlers  on  the 
Morocco  question  began.  Ere  long  no  one  doubted  that 
Morocco  was  about  to  become  a  French  protectorate. 
Many  newspapers  then  reminded  the  pubhc  that  once  Mo- 
rocco had  become  French,  the  only  territory  in  North 
Africa  left  for  Italy  would  be  Tripoli  and  pointed  out  that 
if  she  failed  to  seize  this  opportunity,  she  would  be  encir- 
cled and  stifled  in  the  Mediterranean. 

Until  that  time  the  Italian  people  had  but  a  very  vague 
notion  of  Tripoli.  The  efforts  made  by  writers  and  politi- 
cians after  the  Mediterranean  agreements  with  France  and 
England  to  draw  its  attention  to  these  regions  had  been 
fruitless.  The  memory  of  Adowa  still  lay  heavy  upon  the 
nation,  but  this  time  to  the  astonishment  even  of  those  who 
had  opened  the  campaign  with  but  little  hope  of  rousing  the 
people  from  its  indifference,  public  opinion  suddenly  showed 
an  interest  in  the  matter  —  an  interest  which  grew  daily. 
Yes,  Italy  would  lose  an  opportunity  which  could  never 
recur  if  Giolitti's  government  showed  its  usual  indifference 
to  the  great  questions  of  international  and  colonial  policy. 
In  reality  Tripoli  was  but  a  pretext.  The  country  was 
longing  to  escape  from  the  state  of  discontent  and  despond- 
ency I  have  described  and  it  seized  this  occasion,  regardless 
of  danger,  in  the  hope  of  finding  in  Tripoli  what  it  had 
vainly  sought  in  liberalism  —  the  increase  of  wealth,  a  new, 
happier  and  nobler  life.  When,  however,  the  public  as- 
serted that  if  France  took  Morocco,  Italy  must  take  Tripoli, 
it  forgot  that  Tripoli  was  a  province  of  the  Ottoman  Em- 
pire, and  that  since  Turkey  was  a  European  power,  to  seize 
Tripoli  would  upset  the  balance  of  Europe,  on  which  de- 
pended the  peace  of  the  world.  It  was  easy  enough  for  the 
nation  to  demand  Tripoli ;  it  was  quite  another  matter  for 
the  government  to  satisfy  its  wishes.     Accordingly  it  hesi- 


144       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tated.  When,  however,  the  press,  the  various  poHtical  par- 
ties and  those  who  did  not  wish  to  see  the  Radicals  in 
power,  or  the  introduction  of  the  State  life  insurance  mo- 
nopoly and  manhood  suffrage  saw  both  this  hesitation  and 
the  excited  condition  of  public  opinion,  they  did  everything 
in  their  power  to  excite  public  opinion  still  more  as  the 
most  efficacious  way  of  discrediting  the  Ministry.  They 
succeeded  so  well  that  the  Cabinet  realized  that  its  fall  was 
inevitable  if  it  tried  to  resist  the  wishes  of  the  people.  If 
Giolitti  had  not  set  up  a  Radical  ministry;  if  he  had  not 
tried  to  introduce  either  the  life  insurance  monopoly  or  man- 
hood suffrage,  he  would  probably  have  been  able  to  make  the 
country  understand  that  it  was  impossible  to  attack  another 
Power  without  rhyme  or  reason  merely  because  the  nation 
desired  to  do  so.  Under  the  circumstances,  however,  he 
could  not  enforce  this  view,  since,  had  he  attempted  it,  all 
his  enemies  and  political  opponents  would  immediately  have 
accused  him  of  betraying  the  interests  of  the  country;  he 
could  not  have  hoped,  with  all  his  power,  to  withstand  the 
onslaughts  of  excited  public  opinion  and  the  fate  which  over- 
took him  in  the  spring  of  191 5  would  have  been  his  in  the 
spring  of  191 1. 

The  government  therefore  decided  upon  war  and  declared 
it  as  best  it  could.  From  the  point  of  view  of  International 
Law,  the  pretext  for  hostilities  was  somewhat  feeble,  and 
those  who  had  kept  their  heads  were  therefore  not  sur- 
prised that  Italy's  step  was  not  cordially  received  by  the 
other  Powers.  This  attitude  annoyed  Italy  and  the  extent 
to  which  the  country  had  been  Germanized  during  the  last 
thirty  years  suddenly  became  manifest.  The  nation,  or  at 
all  events  the  most  influential  classes,  seemed  to  take  a 
morbid  pleasure  in  making  a  bad  use  of  its  power,  in  reply- 
ing angrily  to  all  foreign  criticisms,  even  the  most  courte- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  145 

ous  and  reasonable,  in  abusing  all  Europe,  in  clamouring 
for  the  extermination  of  the  enemy,  in  exalting  war  and 
conquest  as  the  sacred  rights  of  the  higher  races  and  in 
forcibly  suppressing  all  dissentient  voices.  Every  arrange- 
ment suggested  which  might  have  saved  the  prestige  of  the 
Sultan  whilst  at  the  same  time  giving  satisfaction  to  Italy 
was  regarded  as  humiliating,  and  the  country  demanded 
unconditioned  victory  with  such  resolution  that  the  govern- 
ment was  forced  to  issue  the  decree  of  annexation.  There 
was  but  little  dissent  from  this  universal  greed  for  conquestl\ 
the  SociaHsts  were,  to  do  them  justice,  the  only  political 
party  to  oppose  it.  The  storm  which  had  threatened  to  ruin 
Giolitti  and  his  Cabinet  blew  over,  the  sky  cleared  and  Gio- 
litti  actually  became  popular.  Such  is  the  irony  of  human 
affairs!  The  man,  who  had  been  unpopular  when  he  had 
striven  to  make  the  country  prosperous  and  contented  and 
to  please  every  one  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  became  the  object 
of  general  admiration  and  had  to  make  speeches  from  his 
balcony  to  crowds  beside  themselves  with  enthusiasm  when 
his  errors  in  home  affairs  had  forced  him  to  forge  the  first 
link  in  the  claim  which  was  to  end  in  the  world  war. 

Whilst  the  nation  was  intoxicated  with  dreams  of  con- 
quest, the  government  had  made  the  same  blunder  as  in 
1896  and  was  entering  upon  a  colonial  campaign  with  the 
forces  intended  merely  for  home  defence  —  a  blunder  which 
had  the  gravest  consequences.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war 
even  the  masses  were  full  of  enthusiasm;  they  had  taken 
the  press  too  literally  and  were  convinced  that  Tripoli  was 
a  country  of  fabulous  wealth  which  would  afford  land  and 
work  to  millions  of  emigrants.  Their  enthusiasm  cooled 
rapidly.  The  Italian  generals  were  obliged  to  wage  a  war 
of  positions,  for  blood  could  not  be  shed  recklessly  in 
order  to  achieve  the  conquest  of  what  the  troops  rightly 


146       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

or  wrongly  regarded  as  a  sandy  waste.  The  war  dragged 
slowly  along  and  became  a  source  of  anxiety  not  only  to 
Italy  but  to  the  whole  of  Europe.  The  enthusiasm  of  the 
first  few  months  gave  place  to  impatience,  irritation  and 
even  greater  discontent  than  that  prevailing  before  the  war. 
The  government,  which  was  still  anxious  to  pass  the  Insur- 
ance Monopoly  and  Manhood  Suffrage  Bills,  had  recourse 
to  all  kinds  of  artifices  —  such  as  press  campaigns,  an  at- 
tack on  the  Dardanelles  and  the  occupation  of  the  Dodeca- 
nese —  in  order  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  people.  It 
succeeded  in  passing  a  modified  form  of  the  Life  Insurance 
Monopoly  Bill  which  had  more  respect  for  vested  rights 
and  in  introducing  Manhood  Suffrage.  A  little  later,  dur- 
ing the  autumn  of  19 12,  it  also  succeeded  in  concluding 
peace  with  Turkey.  These  successes,  however,  only  weak- 
ened the  power  of  the  government.  The  two  years  which 
elapsed  after  the  introduction  of  this  electoral  reform  and 
before  the  outbreak  of  the  European  War  were  amongst 
the  most  anxious  through  which  Italy  has  passed  since  i860. 
The  Peace  of  Lausanne  was  hailed  with  joy,  as  a  way  out 
of  an  intolerable  situation,  but  it  satisfied  no  one.  It  was 
a  matter  of  universal  knowledge  that  while  Italy  had  not 
been  defeated  in  Tripoli,  she  had  not  achieved  the  complete 
success  hoped  for.  The  disappointment  was  aggravated 
by  the  fear  of  possible  internal  repercussions.  The  coming 
elections,  the  first  since  manhood  suffrage  had  become  an 
accomplished  fact,  were  the  absorbing  thought  of  political 
circles.  This  common  anxiety  instead  of,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  showing  the  advisability  of  union  between 
the  ruling  classes,  seemed  to  make  them  more  suspicious  of 
one  another,  whilst  the  general  public  was  weary  and  indif- 
ferent. (^The  two  Balkan  wars,  the  many  evidences  of  the 
increasing  instability  of  the  European  balance  of  power, 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  147 

the  menacing  growth  of  the  German  army  and  navy,  and 
the  incessant  Austrian  intrigues,  made  but  little  impression 
on  either  the  government,  political  circles,  the  press  or  the 
nation.  Deputies  and  parties  alike  were  busy  trying  to 
gain  government  support  during  the  coming  elections  and 
were  carrying  on  a  fierce  wordy  warfare  both  in  Parliament 
and  the  press.  The  public  took  no  interest  whatsoever  in 
these  intrigues  and  struggles,  thus  leaving  the  government 
free  to  settle  the  most  weighty  matters  as  it  thought  fit. 
The  government,  thus  left  to  itself  by  public  opinion,  weak- 
ened by  the  war,  and  itself  anxious  as  to  the  results  of  the 
coming  elections,  allowed  itself  to  be  influenced  by  passing 
events,  habit  and  every  kind  of  intrigue.  Austria  and 
Germany  profited  by  this  state  of  things  to  induce  the  gov- 
ernment to  renew  the  Triple  Alliance  before  the  term  agreed 
upon,  to  take  their  side  against  Serbia,  to  support  their 
policy  in  Albania  and  to  do  everything  in  its  power  to  bring 
about  the  second  Balkan  war,  of  which  Italy  is  now  feeling 
the  disastrous  results.'^^  The  Marquis  of  San  Giuliano,  at 
this  time  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  who  was  left  to  his 
own  devices,  readily  yielded  to  the  various  influences 
brought  to  bear  upon  him,  whilst  Giolitti  devoted  his  whole 
attention  to  the  general  election,  employing  to  their  fullest 
extent  his  favourite  tactics  of  weakening  all  parties  by 
intermingling  them.  The  confusion  which  prevailed  during 
the  general  elections  of  19 13  will  never  be  forgotten.  In 
one  district  the  Minister  supported  the  Socialist  candidate 
against  the  Clerical ;  in  another  the  Clerical  against  the  So- 
cialist; the  very  same  Prefect  who  in  one  constituency  sup- 
ported the  Radical  candidate  opposed  him  violently  in  the 
neighbouring  one.  These  contradictions  were  specially 
marked  in  the  large  towns,  where  the  government  policy 
varied   according   to    the    street   and   district.     Influential 


148       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

deputies  belonging  to  Giolitti's  personal  party  were  of 
course  supported  against  every  party.  The  most  notable 
instance  of  this  confusion  '.vas  that  of  a  Cabinet  Minister, 
a  prominent  Free  Mason,  who  seemed  about  to  be  defeated 
by  a  Clerical  candidate,  when  the  Vatican,  at  the  request 
of  the  government,  ordered  the  Clerical  to  withdraw  his 
candidature  in  favour  of  the  Socialist. 

The  result  of  the  elections  was  disastrous.  Out  of  five 
million  electors,  one  million  voted  for  the  Socialists,  who 
had  eighty  seats  in  the  new  Chamber  as  against  forty  in 
the  preceding  one.  They  gained  this  large  number  of  votes 
—  more  especially  in  the  country  districts  —  because  they 
had  had  the  courage  to  protest  against  the  Tripoli  cam- 
paign, and  w^ould  probably  have  gained  still  more,  had  they 
conducted  their  anti-war  campaign  with  more  boldness  and 
intelligence.  This  result  of  the  elections  increased  the 
general  depression.  The  Chamber  became  the  scene  of  in- 
vective disturbances  and  even  blow^s ;  Giolitti  as  usual  seized 
the  first  favourable  opportunity  of  resigning  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Salandra,  w^ho,  next  to  Sonnino,  was  the  most 
influential  member  of  the  small  party  of  the  Right  which 
had  always  remained  in  Opposition.  His  selection  was 
not,  however,  due  to  any  recognition  of  the  principles  of 
constitutional  law,  but  because  it  was  absolutely  essential 
to  place  at  the  head  of  the  government  a  man  who,  while 
more  malleable  than  Sonnino,  was  both  capable  and  con- 
scious of  the  seriousness  of  his  position,  and  would  en- 
deavour, without  breaking  with  Giolitti  and  his  party,  to 
deal  with  the  situation  resulting  from  the  war  and  the  pol- 
icy of  the  late  government.  Salandra,  though  he  did  not 
attempt  to  form  a  Conservative  Ministry,  dissociated  him- 
self from  the  Radicals,  and  set  to  work.  He  was,  however, 
soon  confronted  with  the  most  unforeseen  difficulties.     Be- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  149 

fore  Giolitti  resigned,  he  had  proposed  various  new  taxes 
to  cover  the  deficit  caused  by  the  war.  The  new  Cabinet 
brought  forward  these  measures,  which  were  clearly  abso- 
lutely necessary,  but  the  Socialists  opposed  them  by  every 
means  in  their  power  on  the  ground  that  the  poor  were  to 
be  made  to  pay  for  a  war  desired  by  the  rich.  Whilst  the 
government  was  still  trying  to  overcome  this  opposition, 
a  skirmish  took  place  at  Ancona  between  the  police  and  a 
crowd  which  had  taken  part  in  a  political  meeting.  The 
police  fired  upon  the  people  and  killed  one  person;  the 
Socialist  party  proclaimed  a  general  strike  which  in  many 
towns  caused  outbreaks  of  violence;  stations  and  churches 
were  burnt  down,  revolver  shots  exchanged  freely;  several 
town  in  Romagna  proclaimed  themselves  republics,  while 
everywhere  the  authorities,  taken  by  surprise,  dealt  with 
the  outburst  with  a  sort  of  fatalistic  inertia.  Order  was 
re-established,  but,  though  the  government  succeeded  in 
putting  down  the  riots,  it  failed  to  overcome  the  obstruc- 
tionary  tactics  of  Parliament  and  had  to  content  itself  with 
a  compromise:  i.e.,  a  royal  decree  authorizing  it  to  impose 
these  taxes  for  one  year.  The  upper  classes  were  pervaded 
with  a  sense  of  insecurity  and  indeed  the  whole  country  felt 
as  if  it  were  on  the  edge  of  a  volcano.  It  w^as  under  these 
disquieting  circumstances  that  the  Chamber  adjourned  in 
the  summer  of  19 14.  In  a  few  weeks  a  far  greater  storm 
burst  over  the  world  —  the  European  War. 

VI 

When  confronted  with  this  cataclysm,  the  country  pulled 
itself  together.  German  aggression  and  the  violation  of 
Belgium  neutrality  aroused  in  the  masses  that  moral  sense 
which  the  Tripoli  campaign  had  dulled,  while  at  the  same 


150       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

time  opening  the  eyes  of  the  nation  to  the  danger  threaten- 
ing Italy,  and  the  Power  which  had  begun  a  world  war  with 
such  criminal  callousness,  which  had  broken  faith  with  such 
insolence  and  had  proclaimed  to  the  w^orld  that  it  recog- 
nized no  law  but  that  of  might,  became  in  a  few  days  the 
object  of  general  execration.  Justice,  honour,  loyalty, 
right,  all  those  ideals  in  fact  which  the  era  of  quantity  had 
scorned,  once  more  became  matters  of  moment.  The  ha- 
tred of  Germanism,  which  had  been  latent  amongst  the 
masses  since  the  days  of  the  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines,  sud- 
denly awoke  and  intense  indignation  was  roused  in  all 
classes. 

The  Treaty  of  the  Triple  Alliance  was  denounced  on 
May  4th,  191 5,  but  it  had  really  been  rejected  by  the  nation 
between  the  ist  and  4th  of  August,  1914.  Even  if  the 
Italian  government  had  been  foolish  enough  to  pledge  itself 
to  take  part  in  a  war  of  pillage  and  aggression,  it  would 
not  have  been  able  to  keep  its  word,  for  the  country  would 
have  refused  to  support  it.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  German 
ambassador  offered  the  Italian  government  Tunis  and  two 
milliards  of  francs  and  that  the  military  attache  tried  to 
convince  Cadorna  that  it  was  a  matter  of  a  short  and  easy 
campaign,  that  "  in  six  weeks  the  whole  thing  would  be 
over."  If  the  government  had  at  that  moment  been  in  a 
position  to  renounce  the  Treaty  and  declare  war  on  the 
Germanic  empires,  the  country  would  have  supported  it 
with  enthusiasm,  but  such  a  course  was  not  possible  and 
Italy  had  to  resign  herself  to  being  a  mere  spectator  of  the 
great  struggle,  though  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  which 
way  her  sympathies  lay.  The  masses  quickly  realized  that 
nothing  could  be  a  greater  disaster  than  the  annihilation  of 
France;  old  quarrels  were  forgotten  and  the  three  weeks 
v.hich  elaosed  between  the  battle  of  Charleroi  and  the  bat- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  151 

tie  of  the  Marne  were  weeks  of  the  most  intense  anxiety. 
During  those  three  weeks,  the  circulation  of  the  newspapers, 
which  had  risen  considerably  since  the  outbreak  of  the  war, 
dropped  rapidly,  for  the  public  would  not  read  the  bad  news 
they  contained. 

The  Battle  of  the  Marne  and  the  Battle  of  Lemberg  al- 
layed their  fears,  the  former  especially  being  hailed  with 
great  joy.  Italy  was  glad  to  receive  proof  that,  in  spite  of 
all  that  had  been  said  about  the  decadence  of  France,  there 
was  still  beyond  the  Alps  an  army  strong  enough  to  bar 
the  road  to  Paris.  The  public  gradually  realized  that  the 
surprise  sprung  on  Europe  by  the  two  empires  had  failed, 
that  the  war  was  developing  along  unexpected  lines  and 
would  be  of  long  duration.  The  part  which  Italy  would 
have  to  play  soon  came  to  the  fore.  The  general  feeling 
of  sympathy  for  the  Allies  and  of  disgust  with  the  Central 
Empires  was  so  strong  that  the  possibility  of  Italy's  ranging 
herself  on  the  side  of  Germany  and  Austria  was  never  even 
considered.  Italy  had  to  choose  between  neutrality  and 
going  to  war  against  the  two  empires  and  on  this  point  the 
country  split  into  two  parties  —  the  Neutralists  and  the 
Interventionalists. ") 

If  we  are  to  understand  the  ensuing  struggle  aright,  we 
must  have  a  clear  grasp  of  its  causes.  The  party  which 
from  the  first  was  heart  and  soul  for  the  war  was  recruited 
from  the  educated  classes  —  journalists,  teachers  at  the  sec- 
ondary schools,  men  of  letters,  students,  and  the  most  cul- 
tured section  of  the  upper  middle  class  and  the  nobility. 
It  also  included  a  small  number  of  university  professors, 
but  the  majority  of  these  professors  remained  true  to  Ger- 
many which  they  regarded  as  the  fount  of  all  learning. 
The  journalists  were  the  most  active  advocates  of  the  Inter- 
ventionalist  movement.     The  press,  with  the  exception  of  a 


152       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

few  newspapers  which  were  frankly  organs  of  the  Neutral- 
ist party,  was  favourable  to  intervention,  even  the  papers 
which  had  hitherto  supported  the  Triple  Alliance  and  looked 
favourably  on  the  spread  of  German  influence  in  the  coun- 
try taking  up  the  same  line.  Many  Interventionalists,  more 
especially  those  belonging  to  conservative  circles,  realized 
that  if  Italy  did  not  intervene,  she  would  find  herself  in  a 
position  of  dangerous  isolation  after  the  war.  National 
aspirations,  Irredentism,  as  they  were  commonly  called,  the 
re-conquest  of  the  Italian  provinces  still  subject  to  the 
Hapsburgs,  were  the  main  ground  for  intervention  in  the 
eyes  of  many  young  rnen  of  the  conservative  classes  and 
also  of  the  Republican  and  Socialist  parties,  which  had  been 
Irredentist  out  of  opposition  to  the  Triple  Alliance.  The 
parties  of  the  Extreme  Left  realized,  moreover,  with  anxi- 
ety the  inevitable  political  and  social  consequences  of  the 
victory  of  the  Germanic  empires  —  the  triumph  of  mili- 
tarism, of  the  monarchical  principle  and  of  reactionary 
ideas.  The  dread  of  German  hegemony  weighed  more  or 
less  heavily  on  all  classes.  The  unbounded  ambition  of 
Germany  together  with  her  desperate  efforts  to  satisfy  it 
had  taken  the  whole  world  by  surprise,  since  Germany  had 
always  been  regarded  as  the  nation  most  nearly  approaching 
the  modern  ideal  of  progress  and  there  were  very  few  who 
had  any  suspicion  that  the  gospel  of  progress  could  give 
birth  to  ambitions  and  acts  of  violence  such  as  those  at 
which  Italy  was  now  gazing  in  horror.  This  very  aston- 
ishment added  to  the  universal  dismay.  Moreover,  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  amongst  the  reasons  which  inclined 
many  people  to  intervention  was  the  ancient  hatred  of 
Austria  and  a  half  unconscious  desire  to  engage  in  some 
great  enterprise  which  should  enable  the  country  to  shake 
off  the  spirit  of  despondency  and  unrest  resulting  from  the 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  153 

events  of  the  last  few  years.  The  Interventionalist  intel- 
lectuals belonged  to  all  parties.  Moreover,  in  each  party 
there  was  a  group  of  intellectuals  which  did  its  utmost  to 
win  over  the  whole  party  —  an  effort  which  succeeded  in 
certain  cases  and  failed  in  others.  The  Radicals,  Repub- 
licans and  Reformist  Socialists  declared  for  intervention; 
the  Official  Socialists  and  the  Clericals  for  neutrality;  the 
Conservatives  and  the  Liberals  —  that  is  to  say,  the  classes 
and  groups  upon  which  the  government  had  leaned  until 
Giolitti's  Radical  ministry  came  into  power  —  did  not  com- 
mit themselves  definitely  one  way  or  the  other.  If  we  are 
to  have  a  clear  grasp  of  the  attitude  of  the  various  parties, 
we  must  not  forget  to  take  into  account  an  important  fact 
which  is  the  key  to  the  events  which  led  to  Italy's  inter- 
vention—  that  the  masses,  i.e.,  the  peasants,  working  men, 
and  lower  middle  classes,  the  classes  affected  by  the  intro- 
duction of  manhood  suffrage  —  much  as  they  detested  Ger- 
many and  Austria  never  desired  war.  They  wanted  peace 
for  the  simple  reason  that  they  considered  it  preferable  to 
w^ar.  '*  We  will  go  to  war  when  we  are  attacked,"  summed 
up  their  view  of  the  case.  The  considerations  of  world 
policy,  the  equilibrium  of  Europe  and  the  danger  of  German 
hegemony  were  altogether  beyond  their  comprehension,  and 
they  were  utterly  indifferent  to  Irredentism.  No  one  had 
spoken  to  them  of  Trieste  and  Trent  for  thirty-two  years, 
for  the  government  had  enforced  silence  on  this  national 
question  in  deference  to  the  Triple  Alliance. 

The  attitude  of  the  lower  classes  explains  why  the  Social- 
ists and  the  Clericals  declared  for  neutrality.  In  the  case 
of  the  Clericals  there  was  another  reason,  this  party  having 
always  been  Francophobe  and  Austrophile,  for  reasons 
which  are  not  hard  to  seek.  The  attitude  of  the  masses 
also  affords  an  explanation  of  the  contradictions  and  oscil- 


154.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

lations  of  the  Liberals  and  Consen-atives ;  in  other  words, 
the  ruling  classes.  Thus,  while  the  organs  of  these  parties 
and  classes  were  for  the  most  part  favourable  to  interven- 
tion, the  Chamber  and  the  Senate  were  impenitent  neutral- 
ists. The  Chamber  was  afraid  of  the  electors  brought  in 
by  manhood  suffrage  who  had  so  plainly  shown  their  dis- 
satisfaction with  the  Tripoli  campaign  and  was  moreover 
anxious  as  to  the  political  consequences  of  intervention. 
Would  not  a  break  with  the  Germanic  Empires  be  tanta- 
j  mount  to  confessing  that  the  alliance  of  thirty-two  years 
I  had  been  a  mistake?  Would  it  not  put  a  formidable 
weapon  into  the  hands  of  the  Opposition?  Whilst  the  Rad- 
icals and  Republicans  were  filled  with  anxiety  as  to  the 
political  consequences  of  a  German  victory,  the  Conserva- 
tives were  equally  anxious  as  to  the  results  of  a  German 
defeat.  The  exaggerated  veneration  for  everything  Ger- 
man so  prevalent  during  the  last  thirty  years  in  certain 
aristocratic  and  intellectual  circles  —  more  particularly  in 
the  universities  —  seemed  to  have  disappeared  with  the  first 
shock  of  the  war,  but  raised  its  head  afresh  when  the  inter- 
vention campaign  began,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  appear- 
ance in  Rome  during  the  autumn  of  1914  of  a  weekly  jour- 
nal published  by  a  group  of  professors  at  the  University 
of  Rome,  whose  object  was  the  seconding  of  Prince  Billow's 
intrigues  by  means  of  a  venomous  and  unscrupulous  cam- 
paign against  the  Triple  Entente  and  especially  against 
France.  Economic  considerations  also  played  their  part, 
for  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  during  the  last  ten  years 
Italy's  trade  with  Germany  and  Austria  had  become  more 
important  than  that  with  the  Entente  Powers.  The  Central 
Ij  Empires  afforded  the  chief  market  for  Italy's  agricultural 
(produce.  German  influence  also  predominated  in  both  the 
banking  and  the  industrial  world.     If  to  these  reasons  we 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  155 

add  anxiety  as  to  how  the  losses  and  expenses  of  the  war 
were  to  be  met,  the  uncertainty  as  to  its  duration  and  issue, 
we  shall  readily  understand  why  government  circles  and 
their  supporters  hesitated  to  take  action. 

Ere  long  the  question  of  intervention  became  the  subject 
of  lively  discussions  which  were  however  confined  to  cer- 
tain small  circles.  The  masses  remained  quiescent.  At 
this  juncture  von  Biilow  arrived  in  Rome  and  set  to  work, 
much  in  the  same  way  as  if  he  had  been  at  Athens  or  Con- 
stantinople. He  bought  everything  w^hich  was  for  sale  in 
the  press  and  in  the  political  world ;  he  rallied  round  him 
all  those  German  interests  which  might  be  expected  to  exer- 
cise pressure  on  the  country  and  he  took  advantage  of  his 
numerous  personal  connections  to  plot  and  intrigue  in  po- 
litical circles.  He  found  many  supporters  among  the  Slav- 
ish admirers  of  Germany  and  the  professional  members  of 
the  Senate  which  became  the  centre  of  pro-German  and 
unpatriotic  intrigues.  What  w^as  the  Government  about  in 
the  meantime?  The  government  too  had  pulled  itself  to- 
gether and,  after  proclaiming  the  neutrality  of  Italy,  was 
preparing  armaments  with  a  rapidity  and  energy  hitherto 
unknown.  San  Giuliano  having  died,  Sonnino  became 
Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  —  a  very  significant  appoint- 
ment —  for  while  Sonnino  has  his  faults  like  any  other 
man,  it  is  an  undeniable  fact  that  his  devotion  to  duty  had 
ended  by  making  him  extremely  unpopular  in  Parliamentary 
circles.  As  for  the  line  to  be  taken  up  by  Italy,  the  govern- 
ment had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  could  not  remain 
merely  a  spectator  for  an  indefinite  period ;  further  that  the 
government  ought  to  take  advantage  of  this  excellent  op- 
portunity of  settling  the  question  of  the  Unredeemed  Prov- 
inces —  a  question  at  once  national  and  strategical  —  that 
this  question  should  be  settled  diplomatically  if  possible, 


156       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

but  that  if  diplomacy  failed,  Italy  should  have  recourse  to 
arms.  Accordingly  on  December  9th,  19 14,  Sonnino 
opened  negotiations  with  Austria  by  requesting  that  the  con- 
ditions contained  in  Art.  7  of  the  Treaty  of  Alliance  would 
be  carried  out.  This  article  laid  down  that  any  act  which 
disturbed  the  power  of  balance  in  the  Balkans,  whether  per- 
formed by  Italy  or  Austria,  would  entitle  the  other  Power 
to  compensation.  By  declaring  war  on  Serbia,  Austria  had 
disturbed  the  balance  of  power  in  the  Balkans,  thus  giving 
Italy  the  right  to  compensation. 

This  step  was  both  perfectly  correct  and  extremely  clever. 
The  Italian  government  could  not  be  accused  of  wishing 
to  violate  the  treaty,  since  it  was  merely  asking  that  one  of 
its  provisions  be  carried  into  effect.  If  Austria  consented 
to  settle  the  national  and  strategical  question  of  the  Unre- 
deemed Provinces  by  way  of  compensation  —  a  contingency 
which  the  government  regarded  as  very  improbable  —  the 
government  would  have  a  decisive  argument  wherewith  to 
convince  the  Interventionists  of  the  futility  of  their  war 
propaganda;  if  Austria  refused,  the  Neutralists  would  be 
forced  to  admit  that  war  was  unavoidable.  I  believe  I  am 
correct  in  stating  that  this  line  of  conduct  was  taken  up 
by  the  government  with  the  full  knowledge  and  approval 
of  Giolitti,  who  as  the  leader  of  the  majority  was  bound 
to  afford  all  possible  assistance  to  the  government.  It  must 
be  admitted  that  he  gave  his  support  as  ungrudgingly  as  the 
circumstances  demanded.  It  cannot,  however,  be  said  that 
his  followers  did  their  duty  equally  well.  They  could  not 
forget  that  Salandra  and  Sonnino  were  the  two  most  emi- 
nent members  of  the  small  group  of  the  Right  which  had 
never  ceased  its  opposition  to  Giolitti's  government.  They 
had  agreed  to  support  Salandra  for  a  few  months  while 
Giolitti  enjoyed  a  rest,  but  the  European  War  threatened 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  157 

to  upset  their  whole  game.  The  Salandra  Cabinet  seemed 
settling  into  power  and,  if  it  managed  to  conduct  a  great 
national  war  successfully,  might  it  not  rally  to  itself  suffi- 
cient forces  to  dispossess  the  Giolittians  altogether?  They 
therefore  began  to  make  trouble  in  Parliamentary  circles, 
alleging  on  the  one  hand  that  the  government  was  rushing 
the  nation  into  a  war  which  could  not  fail  to  be  disastrous, 
and,  on  the  other,  that  if  war  were  really  inevitable,  the  con- 
duct of  it  ought  to  be  in  the  hands  of  Giolitti  and  his  party. 
During  the  whole  winter  of  19 15  a  spirit  of  unrest  per- 
vaded the  upper  classes  and  Parliamentary  circles.  Both 
political  parties  and  the  press  continued  their  pro  or  anti- 
war propaganda.  The  Ministry  continued  its  secret  nego- 
tiations with  Austria.  Von  Biilow  poured  out  gold  like 
water,  invited  senators  to  dinner  and  intrigued  in  the  polit- 
ical world.  Giolitti's  lieutenants  worked  the  Parliamentary 
circles  where  they  felt  themselves  strongest,  while  the  So- 
cialists carried  on  their  campaign  against  intervention  with 
increased  energy  and  attacked  the  Ministry  with  ever  grow- 
ing violence.  Is  the  story  true  that  during  March  and 
April  very  intimate  relations  had  been  set  up  between  von 
Billow  and  certain  of  Giolitti's  most  prominent  lieutenants? 
I  cannot  say  and  I  would  fain  hope  that  German  influence 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  fierce  and  virulent  campaign 
carried  on  by  the  official  organ  of  the  Socialists  in  order 
to  prove  that  all  the  belligerents  were  equally  to  blame  and 
that  France  and  Great  Britain  were  just  as  much  actuated 
by  capitalist  motives  and  greed  of  conquest  as  Germany. 
Whatever  may  have  taken  place  during  these  months,  it  is 
a  fact  that  the  public,  which  had  remained  perfectly  calm, 
was  much  less  interested  in  these  intrigues  and  discussions 
than  in  trying  to  divine  the  real  intentions  of  the  govern- 
ment.    Did  it  mean  to  remain  neutral  or  to  go  to  war? 


158       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

We  now  know  what  it  was  doing  and  what  its  real  inten- 
tions were,  but  at  this  time  it  was  only  known  that  it  was 
negotiating  both  with  Austria  and  the  Triple  Entente,  whilst 
Interventionalist  circles  were  inclined  to  blame  it  severely 
for  what  they  considered  disgraceful  bargaining  with  Aus- 
tria. The  most  widely  different  rumours  were  in  the  air, 
and  towards  the  end  of  Italy's  period  of  neutrality  —  i.e., 
in  March  and  April,  19 15,  the  general  public  began  to  show 
signs  of  unrest.  Uncertainty  was  enervating  public  opin- 
ion, for  a  nation  cannot  live  for  months  under  the  shadow  of 
impending  war  without  becoming  excited. 

Suddenly,  on  April  21st  there  was  an  indication  that  the 
crisis  was  not  far  off.  On  that  day  the  Socialist  organ 
Avanti  published  an  interview  with  a  "  former  minister  " 
of  the  Giolitti  Cabinet,  in  which  the  state  of  the  negotiations 
between  Austria  on  the  one  hand  and  the  Triple  Entente 
on  the  other  was  set  forth  and  the  conclusion  drawn  that 
Italy  ought  to  remain  neutral  and  even  strengthen  her  ties 
to  Germany  in  order  to  safeguard  her  Adriatic  interests. 
Whoever  may  have  been  the  personage  concerned  and  what- 
ever the  value  of  his  conclusions,  the  revelations  as  to  the 
negotiations  were  absolutely  correct.  Those  who  were  au 
courant  of  the  situation  made  no  mistake  as  to  the  object 
of  the  articles  in  question,  which  was  an  anti-war  manoeuvre 
arranged  with  the  Socialist  organ  by  persons  whose  accu- 
rate information  proved  them  to  be  highly  placed.  The 
Neutralist  party  was  preparing  to  make  a  general  appeal 
to  the  masses  against  the  government  and  the  Intervention- 
alists.  It  was  obvious  therefore  that  the  war  party  was 
getting  the  upper  hand  in  ministerial  circles.  A  few  days 
later  Paris  telegrams  announced  in  a  somewhat  vague  form 
that  Italy  had  signed  an  agreement  with  the  Powers  of  the 
Triple  Entente.     The  news  was  denied,  confirmed  and  de- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  159 

nied  again.  It  was  next  announced  that  the  King  intended 
to  be  present  at  the  unveihng  of  the  monument  to  Gari- 
baldi's Thousand  at  Quarto  which  was  expected  to  be  a 
great  Interventionalist  demonstration.  At  the  same  time 
contradictory  rumours  as  to  the  issue  of  the  negotiations 
with  Austria  multipHed.  The  agreement  had  been  con- 
cluded —  it  had  not  been  concluded  —  the  King  would  de- 
clare war  at  Quarto  —  Italy  was  about  to  resume  her  old 
place  in  the  Triple  Alliance.  Suddenly  it  was  announced 
that  the  King  was  not  going  to  Quarto  at  all,  but  this  an- 
nouncement was  accompanied  by  another  to  the  effect  that 
his  change  of  plans  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  government 
had  come  to  decisions  of  such  weight  that  the  Head  of  the 
State  could  not  be  absent  from  Rome.  What  had  really 
happened  ?  The  public  racked  its  brains  in  vain.  On  May 
5th  the  Quarto  monument  was  unveiled,  but  the  ceremony 
did  not  make  the  expected  impression  on  the  nation  and 
was  even  followed  by  a  certain  amount  of  disappointment. 
The  absence  of  the  King  and  members  of  government  had 
been  explained  on  the  ground  of  impending  serious  deci- 
sions and  the  nation  accordingly  expected  some  news  of 
importance  on  the  5th  or  6th.  None  came.  The  public 
was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  government  had  not  taken 
part  in  the  ceremony  at  Quarto  for  fear  of  annoying  Prince 
von  Billow,  as  had  been  stated  by  certain  newspapers. 
Then  suddenly  the  Giolittian  section  of  the  press  published 
a  list  of  concessions  made  by  Austria  and  announced  that 
Giolitti  had  been  summoned  to  Rome  by  the  King.  On 
May  7th  Giolitti  left  Cavour  for  Turin  and  on  the  follow- 
ing day  he  arrived  in  Rome. 

What  had  happened?  The  mystery  is  now  revealed  in 
part.  Since  December  the  Government  had  been  negotiat- 
ing with  Austria  without,  however,  coming  to  any  arrange- 


160  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ment.  The  Green  Book  tells  the  story  of  these  fruitless 
negotiations.  It  took  time  to  induce  Austria  to  admit  the 
possibility  of  a  discussion  based  on  Article  7  and  further 
time  to  induce  her  to  make  any  proposals.  What  she 
offered  was  much  less  than  Italy  asked.  Moreover,  the 
question  as  to  when  the  agreement  would  be  carried  into 
effect  was  a  source  of  great  difficulty.  On  April  26th  the 
government  signed  an  agreement  with  the  Triple  Entente, 
valid  if  Italy  declared  war  within  a  month.  The  govern- 
ment had  decided  to  hurry  events  and  declare  war  without 
delay  if  Austria  would  not  accede  to  Italy's  demands. 

On  May  3d,  Austria  having  refused  to  yield,  the  govern- 
ment denounced  the  Triple  Alliance.  This  meant  war.  I 
think  I  am  safe  in  saying  that  these  two  steps  —  the  agree- 
ment with  the  Triple  Entente  and  the  denunciation  of  the 
Treaty  —  were  taken  without  consulting  Giolitti  who  w'as 
still  at  his  home  in  Piedmont.  Parliamentary  circles  soon 
divined  that  war  was  imminent.  The  anxiety  of  the  ma- 
jority, of  official  circles,  and  of  the  Giolitti  party  was  great 
and  the  Pro-German  party  in  the  Senate  redoubled  its 
activities,  as  did  also  von  Biilow.  What  took  place  at  this 
juncture?  It  is  difficult  to  say  for  certain.  Too  many 
points  are  still  far  from  clear.  But  it  would  appear  that 
Germany  and  Austria,  alarmed  by  the  denunciation  of  the 
Triple  Alliance,  which  came  as  a  painful  surprise,  had  or- 
ganized a  plot  to  overthrow  the  Cabinet  with  the  assistance 
of  various  senators.  Socialists  and  lieutenants  of  Giolitti's, 
influential  personages  sufficiently  blinded  by  political  pas- 
sion to  lend  themselves  to  the  intrigues  of  foreign  Powers. 
The  idea  which  gave  rise  to  this  conspiracy  seems  to  have 
been  as  follows:  The  NeutraHsts  had  a  large  majority 
in  the  Chamber  —  numbering  as  they  did  400  out  of  508 
deputies.     The  Chamber  was  to  meet  on  May  20th.     The 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  161 

problem  was  how  to  bring  about  the  fall  of  the  Ministry 
before  that  date,  thus  preventing  it  from  declaring  war, 
and  then  confronting  Parliament  with  the  accomplished 
fact  ?  How  was  it  to  be  done  ?  In  this  dilemma  the  Neu- 
tralists turned  to  the  powerful  politician  who  had  prac- 
tically created  the  Chamber  and  appeared  to  hold  the  fate 
of  the  Cabinet  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

In  my  opinion  Giolitti  was  not  absolutely  opposed  to  the 
idea  of  declaring  war  on  Austria.  He,  too,  realized  the 
necessity  of  taking  advantage  of  the  European  War  in 
order  to  settle  the  question  of  Italy's  eastern  frontier  if  he 
did  not  wish  to  give  the  Opposition  a  formidable  weapon 
against  the  monarchy  but,  since  he  was  convinced  that  the 
war  would  be  very  long,  he  thought  that  Italy  should  only 
intervene  if  absolutely  necessary,  when,  that  is  to  say,  di- 
plomacy had  failed,  and  that  her  intervention  should  even 
then  be  deferred  until  the  last  possible  moment.  I  am  also 
of  the  opinion  that  he  hoped  that  it  would  be  possible  to 
go  to  w^ar  with  Austria  only  and  not  with  Germany,  which 
latter  power  he  had  always  regarded  as  a  necessary  guaran- 
tee of  Italy's  safety  with  France  and  Great  Britain.  This 
scheme  was  ingenious  enough ;  the  only  doubt  was  its  feasi- 
bility. Such  being  Giolitti's  views,  it  is  easy  to  see  why 
the  Neutralists  regarded  him  as  the  one  man  who  could 
force  the  Salandra  Cabinet  to  resign  before  the  Chamber 
met.  Giolitti  was  to  be  called  to  Rome  by  the  King;  Aus- 
tria was  to  make  fresh  concessions  in  addition  to  those 
already  rejected  by  the  Cabinet;  these  new  concessions  were 
not  to  be  communicated  to  the  government,  which  had 
already  denounced  the  treaty,  but  given  to  the  public  in  the 
columns  of  the  papers  implicated  in  the  plot;  a  demonstra- 
tion in  favour  of  Giolitti  was  to  be  organized  in  the  ranks 
of  the   Parliamentary  majority,  after  which  Giolitti  was 


162       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

to  declare  that  there  must  be  no  rupture  with  Austria  and 
that  the  discussion  of  the  proposed  concessions  must  con- 
tinue. The  Cabinet  would  find  itself  confronted  by  a  pop- 
ular peace  movement  on  the  one  hand, —  in  which  the 
Socialists  were  expected  to  play  a  leading  part  —  and  a 
Parliamentary  demonstration  on  the  other  and  would  have 
no  choice  but  to  resign.  It  is  easy  to  see  the  weak  point  of 
this  intrigue  as  far  as  the  Italians  involved  were  concerned. 
They  were  co-operating  with  foreign  Powers,  which  were 
on  the  point  of  becoming  enemies,  in  order  to  bring  about 
the  fall  of  the  Ministry.  It  must,  however,  in  justice  be 
added  that  men  who  were  thoroughly  au  courant  of  the 
situation  and  whose  loyalty  is  beyond  suspicion  declare  that 
on  May  8th,  when  Giolitti  left  Turin  for  Rome,  he  was  not 
aware  that  the  latest  Austrian  concessions  had  not  been 
communicated  to  the  Italian  government  and  that  he  was 
under  the  impression  that  he  had  to  deal  with  official  pro- 
posals which  had  been  properly  presented.  Giolitti  himself 
had  therefore  been  deceived  by  German  diplomacy,  which 
rewarded  him  for  his  fidelity  to  the  Triple  Alliance  by  tell- 
ing him  a  lie  which  induced  him  to  make  a  faux  pas  which 
was  destined  to  have  the  gravest  possibile  results.  This 
scheme,  an  excellent  example  of  the  unscrupulous  boldness 
of  German  diplomacy,  seemed  at  first  about  to  succeed.  By 
some  means  or  other  Giolitti's  summons  to  Rome  was  ac- 
complished; he  arrived  on  May  9th  and  next  day  had  an 
audience  with  the  King  and  a  long  conversation  with  Salan- 
dra.  He  must  therefore  have  known  that  the  agreement 
with  the  Triple  Entente  had  been  signed  and  had  already 
begun  to  come  into  effect,  that  the  Triple  Alliance  had  been 
denounced,  and  that  Austria's  latest  proposals  were  of  a 
wholly  unofficial  character  and  were  simply  a  low  stratagem 
to  deceive  both  Parliament  and  the  nation.     How  was  it 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  163 

that  he  failed  to  realize  that  it  was  not  possible  to  undo 
what  had  been  done,  that  war  was  inevitable  and  that 
everything  must  be  done  to  avoid  spreading  distrust  amongst 
the  masses  who  were  still  cherishing  lingering  hopes  of 
peace?  Had  he  compromised  himself  too  deeply  with  his 
lieutenants?  Was  he  simply  giving  vent  to  his  annoyance 
with  the  Cabinet  for  taking  such  important  steps  without 
consulting  him?  Did  he  fail  to  realize  the  gravity  of  his 
proceedings?  Had  he  gone  too  far  to  draw  back?  His- 
tory may  perhaps  shed  light  on  the  mystery.  The  fact 
remains  that  on  the  day  following  Giolitti's  interview  with 
the  King  the  iiewspapers  announced  that,  according  to  him, 
the  negotiations  with  Austria  were  to  continue.  The  effect 
of  this  declaration  at  first  seemed  very  marked.  Three 
hundred  deputies  and  a  large  number  of  senators  rushed  to 
leave  their  cards  on  Giolitti;  there  were  excited  scenes  in 
the  lobbies  of  both  Chamber  and  Senate  and  shouts  of 
"  Down  with  the  Pro- war  Cabinet,"  while  both  the  Crown 
and  the  Ministry  had  to  face  a  very  awkward  situation. 
The  Alliance  with  the  Central  Empires  had  been  denounced 
and  the  understanding  with  the  Triple  Entente  was  already 
being  carried  into  effect:  how  could  Italy  go  back?  Yet 
how  could  she  declare  war  in  the  face  of  vacillating  public 
opinion  and  directly  against  the  wishes  of  Parliament? 
There  was  some  talk  of  bringing  the  question  before  Par- 
liament, but  the  danger  of  such  a  course  was  obvious.  The 
Ministry  was  therefore  forced  to  choose  between  a  coup 
d'etat  and  resignation.  It  decided  to  resign.  Then  certain 
sections  of  public  opinion  veered  round.  The  movement 
began  amongst  the  educated  classes,  but  quickly  gained 
over  part  of  the  aristocracy,  lower  and  upper  middle  classes. 
This  change  was  brought  about  by  a  variety  of  sentiments: 
the  disgrace  of  seeing  Italy  descend  to  the  level  of  Greece; 


164^  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

anxiety  as  to  the  probable  result  of  such  vacillation;  the 
longing  to  put  an  end  to  the  uncertainty  in  which  the  coun- 
try had  lived  for  the  last  two  months.  But  there  were 
two  sentiments  which  did  even  more  to  produce  the  storm. 
One  of  these  was  anger  at  Germany's  interference  in  Italy's 
home  policy.  Erzberger  is  said  to  have  furnished  the  news- 
papers which  lent  themselves  to  the  conspiracy  with  the 
famous  list  of  the  latest  Austrian  concessions ;  if  this  be  so, 
the  Triple  Entente  has  every  reason  to  be  grateful  to  him. 
The  overbearing,  encroaching  spirit  and  perpetual  intrigues 
of  German  diplomats,  bankers,  and  even  of  those  officials 
whom  the  Italian  government  had  been  weak  enough  to  take 
into  its  service  had  been  tolerated  too  long,  but  this  time 
the  unscrupulous  insolence  of  German  and  Austrian  diplo- 
macy met  with  the  chastisement  it  so  richly  deserved,  and 
the  fury  of  the  people  was  aroused  when  it  saw  Italy 
treated  like  some  decadent  eastern  state.  There  was  a 
violent  outbreak  of  hatred  for  Giolitti  who  in  those  two 
days  had  to  face  the  accumulated  detestation  which  his 
rule  had  earned  in  the  course  of  years.  The  opponents  of 
his  Manhood  Suffrage  Bill  and  of  the  State  monopoly  of 
life  insurance,  together  with  those  who  disliked  his  system 
of  personal  government,  his  weak  foreign  policy,  and  his 
contradictory  home  policy,  seized  the  opportunity  of  aveng- 
ing their  wrongs.  His  third  attempt  —  or  what  the  public 
regarded  as  his  third  attempt  —  to  resume  power  when  it 
happened  to  suit  him  disgusted  the  people.  Was  the  gov- 
ernment of  a  country  like  Italy  to  be,  so  to  speak,  the  per- 
sonal property  of  Giolitti  ?  Shouts  of  "  traitor "  and 
"  treason "  were  heard  in  the  streets  and  echoed  by  the 
press,  while  in  the  large  cities,  and  especially  in  Rome  and 
Milan,  there  were  constant  demonstrations  whose  war-cry 
was  "  Death  to  Giolitti."     In  Rome  the  best  known  mem- 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  165 

bers  of  the  former  Premier's  party  were  abused  and  sub- 
jected to  violence  in  the  streets  and  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment were  invaded  by  a  furious  crowd.  Parliament,  press 
and  political  parties,  who  had  for  long  been  accustomed  to 
yield  to  any  fairly  decided  expression  of  public  opinion, 
made  no  attempt  at  resistance.  The  newspapers  either  at- 
tacked Giolitti  or  were  silent;  the  senators  and  deputies 
who  were  too  deeply  compromised  disappeared ;  others  were 
suddenly  converted  to  intervention;  in  two  days  Giolitti's 
personal  rule,  which  had  appeared  invulnerable,  collapsed, 
while  Giolitti  himself,  forsaken  by  his  party,  was  forced  to 
shut  himself  up  in  his  hotel  lest  he  should  be  shot  in  the 
streets  by  one  of  the  numerous  Interventionalists,  who 
would  fain  have  punished  the  "  traitor !  "  \\'hen  the  dem- 
onstrations had  lasted  three  days  the  King,  who  for  all  his 
reserve  was  favourable  to  the  course  matters  had  taken, 
put  an  end  to  the  struggle  by  announcing  that  the  war  party 
had  carried  the  day.  He  refused  to  accept  the  resignation 
of  the  Cabinet;  Parliament  understood  that  King  and  Cabi- 
net were  of  one  mind  and  yielded  to  the  force  of  circum- 
stances. Fiction  had  for  a  moment  endeavoured  to  become 
reality,  but  the  wrath  of  the  nation  had  promptly  banished 
it  to  the  realm  of  shadows.  Wslv  was  voted  for  almost 
unanimously  by  a  Senate  and  Chamber  of  w^hich  the  ma- 
jority would  not  even  hear  of  such  a  thing  ten  days  before. 
It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  all  Italy  rose 
during  those  stormy  May  days.  With  but  a  few  exceptions 
the  masses  took  little  part  in  the  political  demonstrations, 
which  however  were  furthered  even  by  their  abstinence 
from  active  participation,  since  the  plan  of  the  German 
Embassy  of  bringing  about  the  fall  of  the  Cabinet  might 
have  succeeded  had  the  Socialists  started  counter-agitations 
in  the  Neutralist  interests.     Had  they  done  so,  disturbances^ 


166  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

would  undoubtedly  have  taken  place  and  with  civil  war 
menacing  it,  the  government  would  not  have  ventured  to 
declare  war  on  Austria.  Why  did  the  Socialists  remain 
quiescent  instead  of  coming  out  boldly  at  the  decisive  mo- 
ment? For  the  simple  reason  that,  while  they  desired 
peace,  they  hated  Austria  who  had  let  loose  the  hounds  of 
war  and,  when  the  underhand  manoeuvre  was  revealed  to 
which  they  were  asked  to  give  their  support,  were  not  in- 
clined to  engage  in  a  sort  of  civil  war  on  behalf  of  the  King 
of  Prussia  and  the  ravages  of  Belgium.  They  left  the 
Interventionalists  masters  of  the  situation  and  the  war 
party  triumphed. 

VII 

And  now  Italy,  like  all  the  other  European  peoples,  is  in 
the  hands  of  God  or  of  Destiny  —  whichever  you  choose 
to  call  it.  She  has  nobly  redeemed  the  error  of  the  Tripoli 
campaign  by  intervening  in  this  most  appalling  of  wars 
without  being  forced  to  do  so  by  any  direct  attack,  thus 
ranging  herself  on  the  side  of  the  nations  who  have  been 
the  victims  of  German  aggression  and  are  struggling  to 
save  Europe  from  an  intolerable  hegemony.  The  impulse 
which  made  her  take  this  step  was  not,  however,  as  has 
been  often  said  a  mere  outburst  of  national  feeling.  It  was 
something  much  more  complicated  —  something  far  deeper. 
The  necessity  of  putting  an  end  to  an  artificial,  contradic- 
tory and  enervating  system  of  government;  shame  at  hav- 
ing for  so  long  submitted  meekly  to  German  influence ;  hor- 
ror and  dread  of  this  monstrous  power  resting  on  numbers, 
steel,  the  authority  of  the  monarchy,  the  prestige  of  the 
army,  the  credulity  and  blind  passions  of  the  masses  ex- 
ploited by  a  strong  and  unscrupulous  oligarchy;  the  desire 
for  moral  independence  which  could  only  be  hers  with  a 


ITALY'S  FOREIGN  POLICY  167 

more  secure  frontier,  together  with  a  somewhat  vague  but 
very  real  longing  for  a  nobler,  higher  and  happier  life  — 
all  these  causes  impelled  Italy  to  take  part  in  the  struggle. 
A  coahtion  of  various  elements  overcame  the  official  oppo- 
sition to  this  act  of  sacrifice  and  put  an  end  to  the  vacilla- 
tion of  the  masses.  This  coalition  has  been  of  the  greatest 
service  to  Europe,  but  it  has  entailed  grave  responsibilities. 
Italy  has  pledged  herself  to  her  allies  to  induce  the  country 
to  make  the  greatest  possible  effort  in  the  common  cause 
and  they  have  pledged  themselves  to  give  the  country,  to- 
gether with  its  natural  frontiers,  a  sure  and  lasting  peace, 
moral  independence  and  an  existence  free  from  the  obses- 
sion of  German  example  and  influence.  The  coalition 
which  willed  the  war  might  one  day  find  itself  in  a  perilous 
position  should  it  fail  to  fulfil  these  pledges.  It  will  fulfil 
the  former,  for,  the  masses,  vacillating  as  they  were  up  to 
the  very  declaration  of  war,  have  accepted  the  heavy  sacri- 
fices asked  of  them  with  admirable  courage  and  dignity. 
It  is  for  the  Allied  Powers  to  help  it  to  redeem  the  pledges 
it  has  given  to  the  country,  by  taking  into  account  the  limits 
placed  upon  Italy's  participation  in  the  war  by  the  circum- 
stances under  which  she  entered  it.  It  must  never  be  for- 
gotten that  the  problem  of  war  is  not  presented  in  the  same 
way  to  the  government  of  a  country  which  has  been  forced 
to  take  up  arms  by  brutal  aggression,  as  to  the  government 
of  a  country  which  has  desired  war  on  political  and  national 
grounds  which  are  always  open  to  discussion.  If  the  Allies 
bear  this  in  mind,  they  will  be  better  able  to  help  the  Italian 
government  and  be  in  turn  helped  by  it  to  attain  the  common 
goal :  the  victory  which  will  ensure  to  Europe  a  real,  lasting 
and  equitable  peace. 


CHAPTER  V 
The  Genius  of  the  Latin  Peoples 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES 

I 

History  is  full  of  tragic  surprises,  but  it  is  indubitable 
that  no  generation,  .  .  .  not  even  that  which  witnessed  the 
stupendous  upheaval  of  the  French  Revolution  .  .  .  has 
seen,  as  has  ours,  all  its  illusions  and  its  hopes  destroyed 
in  a  few  weeks  by  a  catastrophe  more  unexpected. 

It  is  not  the  war  which  has  been  the  surprise.  Even 
while  hoping  that  the  precarious  and  uneasy  peace  which 
Europe  has  enjoyed  for  more  than  forty  years  might  be 
prolonged  indefinitely,  every  one  knew  that  war  was  one  of 
the  possibilities  in  the  old  continent.  But  no  one  expected 
to  see  overthrown,  in  a  few  weeks,  the  very  foundations 
of  the  civilization  which  had  sheltered  us,  with  our  posses- 
sions, under  its  protective  roof.  And  yet  we  have  seen  the 
nations  which  were  considered  as  the  elite  of  humanity,  who 
had  exerted  themselves  to  sweeten  conduct  to  the  extent 
of  protecting  horses  in  the  street  from  the  brutality  of 
drunken  carters,  fling  themselves  on  one  another  for  a  war 
of  extermination.  We  have  seen  an  age  which  had  deified 
productive  labour  annihilate,  in  a  few  years,  the  wealth 
accumulated  during  generations.  We  have  seen  Europe 
which  seemed  to  us  a  living  unit  animated  by  rivalries,  if 
not  courteous  at  least  not  mortal,  divide  itself  all  at  once 
into  two  camps  separated  by  an  insuperable  abyss,  which 
can  no  longer  exchange,  across  that  abyss,  but  cannon  shots 
and  curses.  There  is  no  longer  any  way  of  understanding 
each  other ;  for  that  which  is  the  good  on  this  side  of  the 
barrier  is  the  evil  on  the  other  side. 

171 


172       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

If  our  hearts  are  wrung  at  seeing  this  youth  mown  down 
each  day  upon  so  many  battle  fields,  the  bloody  sacrifice  of 
a  generation  is  yet,  unhappily,  but  a  part  of  this  prodigious 
cataclysm,  destined  to  change  the  course  of  history.  It  is 
consequently  natural  that  men  seek  to  understand  its  pro- 
found significance,  and  that  they  ask  themselves  what  dan- 
gerous madness  has  impelled  one  of  the  most  powerful 
nations  of  our  epoch  to  risk  its  whole  position,  and  unfor- 
tunately also  the  well-being  and  happiness  of  the  whole 
of  Europe,  to  possess  itself,  in  a  few  weeks,  of  the  empire 
of  the  world.  For  there  is  now  no  longer  any  doubt  that 
the  European  war,  in  its  origins  and  in  the  dark  plans  of 
the  State  which  plotted  it,  was  the  audacious  attempt  to 
possess  itself,  by  a  coup-de-main,  of  a  hegemony  which 
would  have  delivered  over  to  Germany  at  least  the  half 
of  the  world.  One  has  only  to  follow  up  on  the  map  the 
operations  of  the  German  army,  from  the  violation  of  Bel- 
gian neutrality  until  the  battle  of  the  Marne,  to  understand 
that  Germany  attempted,  in  a  few  weeks,  by  a  lightning- 
like surprise,  to  annihilate  France ;  to  destroy  for  centuries, 
if  not  for  all  time,  her  riches,  her  power,  her  prestige.  Nor 
is  it  any  more  uncertain,  now,  that,  had  this  plan  succeeded, 
neither  England  nor  Russia  alone  would  have  been  able  to 
save  Europe  from  the  German  supremacy;  Europe  would 
have  fallen  under  the  dominion,  direct  or  indirect,  of  the 
Empire  of  the  Hohenzollerns ;  and  how  much  time  would 
have  been  required  by  a  Germany,  yet  further  extended, 
overlord  of  all  the  European  continent,  intoxicated  by  this 
new  success,  to  prepare  itself  for  a  decisive  struggle  with 
England?  .  .  .  that  is  to  say,  for  the  conquest  of  a  world 
supremacy?  But  it  is  also  evident  that  a  stroke  of  such 
audacity,  if  it  did  not  succeed  within  a  few  weeks,  would 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     173 

set  going  a  struggle  for  life  or  death  among  the  greatest 
powers  of  Europe. 

So  that  the  real  problem  of  the  European  war  seems  to 
present  itself  thus:  how  was  a  nation,  universally  regarded 
as  a  brother  of  the  great  European  family,  able  to  conceive, 
at  the  dawn  of  the  twentieth  century,  the  idea  of  con- 
quering, by  surprise,  a  decisive  supremacy  over  all  the  other 
countries  of  the  world,  by  destroying  with  fire  and  sword, 
in  a  few  months,  one  of  the  most  ancient,  most  glorious  and 
most  active  centres  of  civilization;  and  how  did  it  decide 
to  stake  all  that  is  possessed,  .  .  .  that  is  to  say,  a  very 
brilliant  position,  ...  in  this  venture? 

II 

For  the  last  years  the  world  has  been  in  perplexity  over 
this  problem.  The  problem  seems  so  much  the  more  diffi- 
cult in  that,  for  thirty  years  past,  w^e  were  accustomed  to 
attribute  to  Germany  the  genius  of  order.  Germany, — 
that  was  order.  It  is  for  this  reason  that,  in  almost  all 
countries,  the  upper  classes  felt  for  her  a  growing  admira- 
tion. And  behold,  all  at  once,  from  one  day  to  the  next, 
w^ithout  apparent  reason,  this  pretended  land  of  order  throws 
the  whole  of  Europe  into  the  bloody  chaos  of  this  tremen- 
dous crisis,  and  reveals  itself  as  the  most  astounding  force 
of  disorder  that  history  has  yet  seen.  The  w^orld  has  diffi- 
culty in  comprehending  a  phenomenon  so  paradoxical.  It 
will,  however,  appear  simpler  if  one  reflects  a  little  upon 
order,  upon  what  it  is  and  upon  the  conception  which  w^e 
form  for  ourselves  of  it.  It  is  evident  that  order  is  a  very 
vague  word  and  that  it  can  signify  many  different  things, 
according  as  it  is  employed  by  a  gendarme  or  by  a  philoso- 


174       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

pher,  by  the  Home  secretary  or  by  the  head  of  a  Christian 

church.  But,  in  recent  times,  this  elementary  truth  had 
been  a  little  too  much  forgotten,  and,  thanks  to  that  intel- 
lectual levity  which  held  sway  to  some  degree  everywhere 
in  Europe  previous  to  the  war,  we  had  ended  by  believing 
that,  where  the  government  was  disputed  and  unstable,  dis- 
order must  reign;  and  that  one  found  oneself  in  the  realm 
of  order  where  the  authority  of  the  State  was  better  obeyed. 
But  this  concept  of  order  and  disorder  was  too  simple. 
Order  is  too  complicated  a  phenomenon  for  us  to  be  able 
to  confide  the  task  of  defining  it  exclusively  to  the  police, 
as  this  concept  would  assume.  Order  is  also,  .  .  and 
for  my  part  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  say  is  above  all  .  .  . 
the  sense  of  the  limits  which  a  society  ought  not  to  over- 
pass if  it  does  not  wish  to  see  reason  transform  itself  into 
folly,  truth  transform  itself  into  error,  beauty  transform 
Itself  into  ugliness,  good  transform  itself  into  evil.  It  is 
a  law  of  the  human  mind,  in  every  domain  of  practical  and 
of  spiritual  life,  that  all  effect,  if  it  overpasses  a  certain 
limit,  destroys  itself,  and,  instead  of  attaining  its  end, 
engenders  the  most  varied  troubles  and  crises,  becoming  a 
disturbing  element.  There  is  nothing  more  noble  in  the 
world  than  the  love  of  truth,  of  justice  and  of  beauty.  And 
yet  all  science  which,  having  lost  the  sense  of  the  limits 
of  its  powers,  seeks  to  resolve  insoluble  problems,  departs 
from  the  luminous  sphere  of  reason  and  loses  itself  in  the 
fog  of  chimeras,  producing  intellectual  disorder.  The 
states  and  religions  which  have  demanded  of  their  age  too 
great  a  moral  perfection,  by  means  of  methods  of  coercion 
too  violent,  have  sometimes  ended  by  sowing  moral  dis- 
order through  provoking  the  most  unexpected  reactions  of 
vice  and  crime.  The  divine  force  of  art  is  originality,  that 
privilege  of  genius  which  creates  beauties  yet  unknown; 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     175 

but  originality  has  also  its  limits,  for  it  risks,  in  overpassing 
them,  falling  into  extravagance,  into  confusion,  into  the 
absurd.  This  law  is  even  more  obvious  in  the  practical 
realm.  It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  nothing  is  so  dangerous 
for  any  political  or  economic  organization  .  .  .  whether  a 
state,  a  party,  an  army,  a  bank,  or  a  business  ...  as  to 
engage  in  enterprises  which  are  beyond  its  powers.  The 
extreme  limit  of  its  powers  is  also  the  limit  beyond  which, 
for  all  human  institutions,  disintegration  begins;  that  is  to 
say,  the  incurable  disorder  which  precedes  death,  slow  or 
swift. 

This  concept  of  order  accepted,  we  can  affirm  without 
hesitation  that  the  spirit  of  order  is  represented,  in  history, 
not  by  the  Germanic  genius,  but  by  the  Latin  genius.  From 
a  certain  point  of  view  one  can  say  that  the  Latin  genius 
is  essentially  order  in  its  highest  possible  concept,  and  that 
such  little  order  as  has  reigned  in  the  world  has  been  its 
work.  The  political  troubles  which  have  agitated  the  Latin 
countries  at  different  periods,  and  especially  for  the  last 
hundred  and  thirty  years,  have  not  changed  this  profound 
characteristic  of  our  spirit.  It  is  always  difficult  to  define 
the  genius  of  a  people,  of  a  race  or  of  a  civilization.  This 
genius  is  always  a  very  complex  force,  which  eludes  precise 
definitions.  It  is  never,  moreover,  constant  and  uniform  in 
itself.  All  nations  and  all  civilizations  contradict  them- 
selves in  their  history,  by  recurring,  in  certain  periods,  to 
the  tendencies  which  dominated  preceding  epochs.  But  if 
one  understands  by  the  genius  of  a  people  or  of  a  civiliza- 
tion its  most  persistent  tendencies,  to  which  the  people  or 
the  civilization  returns  after  inevitable  fluctuations,  one  can 
say  that  the  Latin  genius,  like  the  Greek  genius  to  which  it 
owes  so  much  and  which  has  been  its  master,  is  a  genius 
par  excellence  limited,  and  in  consequence  orderly :  and  that 


/ 


176       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

it  is  a  limited  and  ordered  genius  because,  in  its  most  bril- 
liant periods,  it,  like  the  Greek  genius,  set  before  itself,  as 
an  end  to  be  attained,  models  of  perfection,  aesthetic,  moral 
or  intellectual,  as  defined  as  possible.  Let  us  take  Greece : 
why  has  she  attained,  in  many  arts  and  in  certain  forms  of 
literature,  so  great  a  perfection,  which  has  consecrated  so 
many  of  her  works  as  models  that  are  always  studied  with 
profit?  Because  she  succeeded  in  limiting  the  creative  en- 
ergy of  genius  by  traditions  and  by  rules,  and  the  force  of 
the  traditions  and  rules  by  the  creative  energy  of  genius. 
In  all  the  arts,  she  has  produced,  in  the  most  brilliant 
moments  of  her  activity,  great  geniuses,  who  have  been  able 
to  work  within  the  limits  of  tradition  and  of  rules  strong 
enough  to  support  them,  but  not  so  strong  as  to  stifle  them. 
In  philosophy,  Greece  has  produced  all  kinds  of  theories. 
All  the  conceptions,  and  even  all  the  aberrations,  to  which 
the  human  mind  reverts  periodically,  are  there  represented. 
But  it  is  not  by  mere  chance  that  one  of  the  two  great 
Greek  philosophers  whose  work  has  come  down  to  us  almost 
entire,  and  who  has  exerted  so  great  an  influence  upon  the 
ancient  world  and  upon  the  whole  development  of  the  Latin 
civiHzation,  w-hether  directly  or  through  St.  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas, is  Aristotle.  Aristotle  might  be  defined  as  the  philoso- 
pher of  limitation  and  of  order  par  excellence.  He  began 
by  limiting  the  universe,  by  reducing  the  world  to  a  narrow 
enclosed  system,  contesting  the  astronomic  theories  which, 
in  making  the  earth  turn  round  the  sun,  w^ould  have  exacted 
as  corollary  the  infinity  of  space.  He  limited  the  develop- 
ment of  the  universe,  by  giving  too  all  things  a  point  of 
arrival  which  does  not  recede  in  proportion  as  they  ap- 
proach it ;  which  is  fixed  and  determinate ;  its  entelechie,  the 
complete  realization  of  its  faculties  or  of  its  tendencies.  He 
has  founded  morality  on  the  idea  that  virtue  is  a  mean  be- 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     177 

tween  two  extremes;  and  he  has,  consequently,  admitted 
that  no  element  of  human  nature  is  radically  evil  when  it 
keeps  to  its  own  place;  it  only  becomes  so  when  it  over- 
passes the  limits  assigned  to  it  by  nature.  He  has  created 
a  system  of  aesthetics  which  is,  in  the  main,  but  a  very 
subtle  and  ingenius  philosophical  justification  of  a  certain 
number  of  rules  which  the  taste  of  his  epoch  imposed  upon 
the  poets,  writers,  and  orators ;  that  is  to  say,  the  philosoph- 
ical justification  of  the  limits  imposed  by  the  Greek  taste 
upon  the  originality  of  genius.  He  has,  in  short,  created  a 
system  of  politics  which  bases  itself,  ultimately,  on  the 
limitation  of  the  population.  Aristotle  would  find  himself 
very  much  out  of  his  reckoning  in  his  political  theories  in 
the  modern  world,  and  above  all  in  the  countries  where,  as 
in  Germany,  the  population  swarms;  for  the  State  such 
as  he  conceives  it  requires,  for  its  good  government,  a  lim- 
ited and  but  little  varying  population.  But  what  is  the  aim 
which  this  State,  whose  population  is  limited,  ought  to  set 
before  it?  It  is  not  the  unlimited  increase  of  power  and 
wealth;  it  is  virtue;  that  is  to  say,  an  ideal  of  moral  per- 
fection. Virtue  is  the  first  care  of  a  State  which  truly 
merits  this  title  and  which  is  not  a  State  only  in  name. 

If  ancient  Greece  possessed  to  so  high  a  degree  the  sense 
of  limits  in  the  spiritual  domain,  Rome  possessed  it  in  the 
political  domain.  The  phenomenon  which  is  seemingly  the 
strength  in  the  history  of  Rome  is  the  persistent  spirit  of 
opposition  to  territorial  aggrandizements  which  dominated 
its  policy  after  the  conquest  of  Italy.  So  long  as  it  was 
a  question  of  conquering  central  and  southern  Italy,  Rome 
proceeded,  when  she  was  able,  with  a  sufficiently  decided 
spirit  of  aggression;  but  so  soon  as  it  was  a  matter  of 
overpassing  the  Apennines,  the  Alps  and  the  sea,  of  found- 
ing the  great  Mediterranean  empire  which  has  had  so  great 


178       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

an  influence  on  the  history  of  Europe,  she  felt  herself  as  it 
were  paralysed  by  the  very  greatness  of  the  opportunity 
which  presented  itself  to  her.  Even  during  the  centuries 
of  the  great  conquests  in  Europe,  in  Asia  and  in  Africa, 
the  aristocracy  which  governed  the  empire  was  always 
opposed  to  the  policy  of  annexations  and  of  conquest.  It 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  Rome  created  her  immense 
empire  in  spite  of  herself,  forced  by  a  sequence  of  events 
which  was  stronger  than  the  will  of  her  government,  or  by 
exceptional  personalities  such  as  C.  Flaminius  and  Julius 
Csesar,  who  were  not,  moreover,  much  admired.  The  ad- 
miration of  Julius  Caesar  is  modern;  the  intellectual  elite 
of  his  generation  and  of  the  succeeding  generations  felt 
to\vards  him,  rather,  fear  and  distrust.  This  phenomenon 
seems  bizarre  and  almost  incomprehensible  to  an  age  like 
ours,  where  aggressive  imperialism  has  enjoyed  such  high 
favour  in  all  countries;  but  for  him  who  looks  from  the 
Roman  point  of  view  the  reason  for  this  is  clear.  The 
Roman  nobility  knew  that  it  was  easier  to  conquer  terri- 
tories than  to  keep  them;  it  saw  on  all  sides  the  ruins  of 
empires  which  had  fallen  because  they  had  wished  to  expand 
too  much  and  too  fast;  it  did  not  wish  to  risk  too  much 
for  the  conquest  of  an  empire  which  it  would  not  have 
the  strength  to  keep.  The  Roman  nobility,  moreover,  .  .  . 
and  it  is  another  characteristic  which  distinguishes  it  from 
the  ruling  classes  of  our  age,  .  .  .  was  never  ambitious  to 
make  of  Rome  a  state  richer  or  more  powerful  than  other 
states;  it  only  wished,  after  having  conquered  Italy,  that 
Rome  might  enjoy  a  certain  security  and  that  she  might 
be  governed  according  to  certain  principles  which  seemed 
to  it,  rightly  or  wrongly,  to  represent  a  perfect  ideal  of 
virtue  and  wisdom.  In  short,  it  put  into  practice,  to  the 
best  of  its  ability,  the  principle  of  Aristotle,  that  virtue  is 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     179 

the  chief  preoccupation  of  a  state  which  merits  that  title. 
For  centuries  Rome  found  herself  in  contact  with  states 
which  were  richer,  or  more  powerful,  or  more  cultivated 
than  herself;  never  was  she  envious  of  them,  never  did  she 
feel  herself  humiliated  by  the  comparison,  nor  obliged  to 
seek  to  imitate  them.  She  limited  herself  always  to  taking 
from  the  other  peoples  what  seemed  to  her  useful  for  her 
own  conservation;  but  she  sought,  above  all,  not  to  com- 
promise that  ideal  of  wisdom  and  virtue  in  which  she  saw 
the  goal  of  all  her  effort.  To  remain  faithful  to  that  ideal, 
she  preferred,  during  several  centuries,  to  renounce  con- 
quests and  enrichments  which  would  have  been  easy  to  her ; 
which  explains,  for  instance,  why  Paul  Emilius,  after  hav- 
ing conquered  Macedonia,  closed  all  the  gold  mines  and 
forbade  their  exploitation;  which  explains  also  why,  at  a 
certain  moment,  the  Senate  refused  to  accept  Egypt,  which 
the  King  had  bequeathed  it  in  his  testament.  Yet  Egypt 
was  considered  the  richest  and  most  fertile  country  of  the 
ancient  world.  But  Rome  refused  it  just  because  it  was 
too  rich.  The  traditionalist  and  puritan  aristocracy  feared 
lest  these  riches  and  the  Egyptian  examples  might  end  by 
"  corrupting  "  Rome ;  that  is  to  say,  by  divorcing  the  new 
generations  from  that  ideal  of  moral  perfection  in  which 
it  believed,  and  which  seemed  to  it  essential  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  people  in  a  state  of  moral  vigour.  The  ideal 
of  moral  perfection  prevailed  over  the  ambition  for  power 
and  the  desire  for  wealth.  This  prudence  also  explains 
to  us  why,  when  she  conquered  a  country,  Rome  asked 
nothing  better  than  to  let  it  live  as  It  would,  with  its  laws 
and  Its  beliefs,  mixing  herself  with  its  affairs  as  little  as 
possible.  Rome  never  dreamed  of  Imposing  her  language, 
her  manners,  or  her  laws  upon  her  subjects ;  all  the  peoples 
who,  under  her  rule,  became  Romanized  freely  and  slowly, 


180       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

because  they  believed  it  advantageous  to  adopt  the  language 
and  ideas  of  the  dominant  nation.  Rome  knew  that  she 
would  not  be  able  to  impose  her  will  upon  all  the  subject 
peoples,  and  she  preferred  to  leave  them  to  govern  them- 
selves. This  prudence  and  these  hesitations  explain  the 
slowness  with  which  the  Roman  Empire  was  created,  but 
it  also  explains  its  duration. 

Ill 

These  examples  show  us  the  Latin  genius,  and  the  Greek 
genius,  which  has  been  the  master  of  the  Latin  genius,  in 
their  characteristic  manifestations,  seeking,  in  art  as  in 
politics,  in  literature  as  in  philosophy,  order,  measure,  har- 
mony. Both  the  one  and  the  other  have  supplied  the  models 
studied  and  imitated  until  two  centuries  ago,  more  or  less 
well,  by  all  the  civilizations  which  have  followed  one  another 
in  Europe.  One  may  say  that  the  Latin  spirit  dominated 
Europe,  although  with  some  more  or  less  grave  lapses, 
until  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Up  to  that  period 
all  the  social  organizations  of  Europe,  diverse  as  they  were 
in  details,  had  yet  a  character  which  could  be  defined  as 
Greco-Latin.  They  were  all  based  upon  the  great  pessimist 
doctrine  which  has  been  formulated  under  force  so  different 
by  the  religions  and  philosophies  of  the  past,  and  according 
to  which  human  nature  is  more  prone  to  evil  than  to  good. 
They  deduced  from  this  principle  that  it  was  necessary  to 
distrust  men,  to  multiply  restraints  and  limits  around  their 
perverse  instincts,  to  master  their  pride  and  cupidity.  They 
sought  to  succeed  in  this  partly  by  all  kinds  of  moral  and 
political  coercion,  partly  by  enjoining  on  the  generations 
elevated  ideals  of  perfection.  All  these  civilizations  were 
poor,  were  lacking  in  energy,  and  ignorant  in  comparison 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     181 

with  contemporary  civilizations;  they  Hmited  their  desires, 
their  ambitions,  their  spirit  of  initiative,  tlieir  audacity,  their 
originahty;  they  produced  httle  and  slowly,  and  even  while 
suffering  much  from  the  insufficiency  of  their  material  re- 
sources, they  considered  the  augmentation  of  wealth  only' 
as  a  painful  necessity.  But  they  sought  to  attain  to  arduous 
standards  of  perfection  .  .  .  artistic,  or  Hterary,  or  moral, 
or  religious.  To  make  use  once  more  of  a  formula  which 
I  have  perhaps  a  little  abused  in  these  latter  days,  quality 
prevailed  over  quantity;  all  the  limitations  to  which  these 
civilizations  submitted  with  so  much  patience  were  only  the 
necessary  price  of  these  coveted  perfections;  in  good  as  in 
evil,  effort  was  made  rather  in  the  direction  of  depth  than 
in  that  of  extent.  Rather  than  to  generalize  vices  and 
virtues  by  extenuating  them,  these  civilizations  tended  to 
create  a  small  number  of  great  villains,  of  great  characters, 
of  great  scholars  and  of  great  artists. 

A  conclusion  thus  forces  itself  upon  us :  it  is  that,  if  the 
Latin  spirit  had  dominated  the  modern  world  as  it  dom- 
inated the  ancient  w^orld,  a  catastrophe  like  this  would  not 
have  been  possible.  Europe  would  have  yet  seen  wars ;  but 
she  would  not  have  seen  armies  so  formidable,  nor  engines 
of  w^ar  so  murderous,  nor  proceedings  so  barbarous,  nor  so 
savage  a  fury  of  passions,  nor  a  people  dreaming  of  con- 
quering the  empire  of  the  world  in  a  few  weeks,  nor  the 
frightful  disorder  w^hich  that  insane  ambition  Avould  let 
loose.  Rome  had  shown,  by  a  conclusive  historical  experi- 
ence, that  the  empire  of  the  world  cannot  be,  even  where  it 
is  possible,  but  the  slow  and  patient  work  of  centuries.  But 
then  another  question  arises :  for  what  reason  has  the  Latin 
spirit  no  longer  today  the  influence  over  the  world  which 
it  had  formerly  ?  What  new  force  has  replaced  it  ?  Why, 
to  these  limited  and  ordered  civilizations  has  there  succeeded 


182       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

a  social  state  which  can  give  birth  to  such  cataclysm  ?  What 
has  happened  in  the  world?  An  immense  revolution  ,  .  , 
the  greatest  perhaps  that  men  have  ever  seen  .  .  .  and  which 
has  overthrown  in  two  centuries  the  world  wherein  our 
ancestors  lived.  I  believe  that  it  is  not  possible  to  under- 
stand the  import  of  modem  life  if  one  has  not  understood 
the  magnitude  of  that  revolution;  and  one  cannot  under- 
stand it  if  one  has  not  an  exact  idea  of  the  civilizations 
which  have  preceded  our  own.  Classic  culture,  if  it  should 
succeed  in  freeing  itself  from  the  German  influence  which, 
at  least  in  Italy,  has  dominated  it  owing  to  the  baneful  in- 
fluence of  the  universities,  ought  to  serve,  above  all  today, 
to  make  modern  civilization  in  its  essential  difference  under- 
stood by  an  exact  knowledge  of  ancient  civilizations.  In 
what  does  this  difference  consist  ?  An  enthusiastic  optimist 
has  succeeded,  during  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  cen- 
turies, and  with  the  aid  of  favourable  circumstances,  in  con- 
vincing a  part  of  humanity  that  human  nature  is  inherently 
good  in  itself;  that,  delivered  from  all  the  restraints  with 
which  laws  and  religions  had  surrounded  it,  abandoned  to 
its  instincts,  it  would  continually  better  itself,  and  would 
create  happiness  around  it,  by  a  kind  of  interior  law.  All 
the  means  of  coercion,  of  which  former  ages  made  use  so 
largely  to  subdue  the  evil  tendencies  of  human  nature,  have 
been  mitigated  or  destroyed ;  man  has  conquered  liberty ;  he 
has  permitted  his  will  and  his  intelligence  to  develop  to  the 
extreme  limit  of  his  energy  and  power  of  action;  he  has 
created  science,  conquered  the  earth  and  the  air,  subjugated 
nature.  .  .  .  But  he  has  been  forced  to  abandon  or  lower 
almost  all  the  ideals  of  artistic,  moral  or  religious  perfec- 
tion venerated  by  our  ancestors;  forced  everywhere  to  sac- 
rifice quality  to  quantity.  .  .  .  History  has  thus  changed 
its  course ;  a  new  world  has  come  into  being,  in  which  cer- 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     183 

tain  principles  of  life  seem  to  have  been  reversed.  Was 
this  new  world  better  or  worse  than  the  old  ?  For  the  last 
century  we  do  nothing  but  discuss  this  problem,  under  a 
thousand  different  forms,  and,  for  the  most  part,  without 
being  aware  of  it,  in  our  quarrels,  political,  religious,  philo- 
sophical. This  problem  underlies  all  these  quarrels.  But 
the  question,  thus  stated,  is  insoluble.  For  the  two  con- 
ceptions of  life,  being  partial,  have  their  true  side  and  their 
false  side,  their  weaknesses  and  their  strong  points.  The 
ancient  has  given  to  the  world  incomparable  master-pieces, 
great  philosophers,  great  religions.  It  has  also  given  hor- 
rible tyrannies  and  fetters  very  heavy  to  bear.  It  has 
divided  men  into  a  great  number  of  small  isolated  and 
antagonistic  groups;  but  it  has  given  birth,  in  the  midst 
of  all  these  enmities,  to  the  most  sublime  among  the  doc- 
trines of  love  and  charity  that  man  has  ever  know^n.  The 
modern  conception  has  bestowed  on  man  much  liberty,  do- 
minion over  all  the  earth,  a  fabulous  wealth  and  power. 
But  it  has  too  much  mixed  up,  and  confounded,  in  a  kind 
of  fog,  the  distinctions  between  truth  and  error,  between 
beauty  and  ugliness,  between  good  and  evil.  And  it  is  in 
this  confusion  that  three  generations  have  sown  with  con- 
fidence the  noblest  ideas  of  fraternity  and  love,  to  gather  the 
bloody  harvest  of  this  gigantic  war! 

IV 

The  present  catastrophe  is,  in  reality,  only  the  final  out- 
come of  a  gigantic  but  confused  effort  accomplished  by 
four  or  five  generations  who  have  thought  only  of  aug- 
menting the  power  of  man,  without  distinguishing  between 
the  power  which  creates  and  that  which  destroys ;  who  have 
considered  it  equally  progressive  to  construct  steamboats  as 


184.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

to  build  dreadnoughts,  to  construct  railroads  as  to  construct 
monstrous  cannons  or  to  invent  terrifying  explosives;  who, 
although  not  repudiating  the  moral  traditions  of  the  past, 
have  left  full  liberty  to  all  the  passions  which  could  stimulate 
human  activity,  even  to  those  which  seemed  the  most  dan- 
gerous to  the  predominating  morality  of  past  ages,  such  as 
pride  and  cupidity.  Our  age  has  demanded  of  men  three 
things :  activity,  patriotism,  and  the  docility  to  economic  and 
political  discipline  which  great  industrial  civilization  re- 
quires. Outside  of  these  three  virtues  it  has  not  imposed 
with  vigour  any  moral  law,  either  upon  private  or  upon  col- 
lective hfe.  Beneath  its  apparent  unity  the  world  had  ended 
by  concealing  a  restless  chaos  of  opposing  interests,  of  pas- 
sions and  of  ideas,  in  which  the  Latin  genius,  which  is  a 
genius  of  order,  of  reason  and  of  perspicuity,  has  ever  felt 
itself  a  little  misplaced;  whereas  the  German  genius,  re- 
maining turbulent  and  uneven,  delighted  in  it  as  in  its  ele- 
ment, and  grew,  in  it,  over-excited  to  the  pitch  of  preparing, 
in  silence,  for  the  unsuspecting  world  the  formidable  sur- 
prise of  this  war.  All  the  tragedy  of  our  age  lies  in  this 
contradiction;  and  no  country  has  felt  it,  has  suffered  by 
it,  as  has  France,  which  had  remained  the  most  loyal  to  the 
Latin  tradition  in  the  midst  of  the  tremendous  shocks  of 
the  last  two  centuries.  The  political  convulsions  which 
have  shaken  her  during  these  last  hundred  and  thirty  years 
have  caused  many  people  to  think  that  France  was  the  great 
centre  of  disorder  in  Europe.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that 
the  European  War  will  have  proved  to  the  most  obstinate 
that  the  centre  of  disorder  was  elsewhere.  Even  at  the 
very  height  of  its  gravest  political  crises  France  did  not 
cease  to  be,  to  such  a  degree  as  this  was  yet  possible,  an 
element  of  order  in  Europe,  because  she  has  been,  among 
the  great  nations  of  Europe,  the  one  which  has  preserved 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     185 

to  the  highest  degree  the  two  quaHties  which  are  the  con- 
dition of  true  order :  the  sense  of  Hmits,  and  the  aspiration 
towards  a  quahtative  civiHzation.  One  might  even  go 
further,  and  say  that  the  agitations  and  revolutions  from 
which  France  has  suffered  during  more  than  a  century,  and 
which  have  caused  her  to  be  considered  as  the  greatest  focus 
of  disorder,  proceeded,  at  least  in  part,  from  the  discrep- 
ancy existing  between  the  tendencies  of  the  epoch  and  her 
spirit  of  order.  "  France,"  .  .  .  and  I  here  ask  your  per- 
mission to  quote  a  page  written  by  myself;  not  that  it  pos- 
sesses any  special  value,  but  because  it  was  written  previous 
to  the  war.  .  .  .  *'  France,  in  effecting  the  Revolution,  gave 
the  coup  de  grace  to  the  limited  civilization  of  our  fathers. 
It  was  not  of  set  purpose,  but  in  thinking  of  and  aiming 
at  something  else,  that  she  dealt  the  blow;  and  this  is  so 
true  that  she  has  since  continued,  and,  perhaps  alone  in 
the  world,  she  yet  aspires,  to  produce  excellence,  to  be  of 
worth,  and  to  assert  herself  through  quality  rather  than 
through  quantity.  But  excellence  cannot  multiply  itself  so 
quickly,  so  easily,  and  in  so  large  a  degree  as  the  mediocre 
and  the  bad.  And  so  it  is  that  the  nation  which  did  not 
tremble  before  Europe  in  arms,  which  dared  to  defy  God 
and  instal  Reason  on  His  throne,  hesitates,  takes  alarm,  is 
terrified  at  the  ever-growing  figures  read  in  the  statistics  of 
its  neighbours ;  and  it  no  longer  knows  whether  it  is  in  de- 
cline or  if  it  marches  as  the  head  of  the  nations ;  and  some- 
times it  is  proud  of  itself,  sometimes  is  discouraged;  has 
the  sense  of  being  isolated ;  asks  itself :  *  what  is  to  be  done? 
Resist  to  the  death  the  universal  triumph  of  quantity?  Or 
utterly  abandon  the  ancient  tradition  and  Americanize  one- 
self like  the  rest?'  Often  when  I  come  to  Paris  I  go,  at 
sunset,  up  the  Avenue  des  Champs  Elysees  towards  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe.  ...  Do  you  know  what,  for  some  time  past, 


186       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

I  cannot  help  thinking  when  I  walk  along  that  avenue?  I 
think  of  the  statistics  of  the  production  of  iron  in  Ger- 
many. A  million  and  a  half  tons  in  1870;  two  millions  in 
1875;  three  in  1880;  nearly  five  in  1890;  eight  and  a  half 
in  1900 ;  eleven  in  1905  ;  nearly  fifteen  in  1910 !  My  friends, 
believe  me ;  it  was  on  the  day  when  Apollo  made  his  speech 
in  Olympus  that  there  began  between  him  and  Vulcan  the 
war  which  is  let  loose  today  in  the  whole  world.  Who  will 
prevail?  Iron  is  incontestably  a  precious  metal;  railways 
and  machines  have  been  made  of  it;  cannons,  guns,  breast- 
plates have  been  made  of  it.  But  to  encumber  the  world 
with  iron  to  the  point  of  driving  out  beauty  from  this 
earth,  and  all  the  qualities  which  reveal  the  mobility  and 
greatness  of  the  human  spirit,  is  not  this  to  lead  the  world 
back  to  barbarism  ?  Who  will  prevail  ?  Vulcan  or  Apollo  ? 
Quantity  or  quality?  " 

The  struggle  between  the  two  gods  of  01}'mpus,  which  I 
had  dreaded  during  my  journeys  in  America,  has  assumed 
all  of  a  sudden  a  form  most  violent  and  terrible.  One  day, 
suddenly,  in  this  chaos  of  conflicting  interests,  passions 
and  opinions  in  w^hich  we  live,  pride,  ambition,  and  the 
spirit  of  violence  prevailed.  The  nation  which  had  made 
a  superficial  age  believe  that  it  represented  the  spirit  of 
order  in  the  world  has.  seized  with  a  fit  of  madness  which 
was  the  logical  outcome  of  its  pride  and  cupidity,  thrown 
Europe  and  half  the  world  into  the  disorder  of  an  unprec- 
edented historic  crisis.  Since  that  day  we  dwell  upon  an 
earth  which  quakes;  and  as  if,  from  one  moment  to  the 
next,  the  sky  would  fall  upon  our  heads.  The  sky  w^ill 
not  fall  upon  our  heads ;  but  it  would  be  difficult  to  foresee 
the  future  which  awaits  our  civilization  if  it  does  not  suc- 
ceed in  regaining  once  more,  in  the  quest  for  new  aesthetic 
and  moral  perfections,  a  surer  sense  of  limits.     Is  the  prob- 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     187 

lem  which  the  war  presents  to  Europe  anything,  indeed,  but 
a  problem  of  Hmits?  It  presents  it  to  all  under  a  material 
and  geographical  form.  There  are  some  nations  which 
have  emerged  from  their  frontiers  and  invaded  the  terri- 
tories of  their  neighbours;  there  are  others  who  struggle  to 
drive  back  the  invaders  and  to  conquer  frontiers  which  shall 
protect  them  for  the  future  from  fresh  outrages.  But  if  it 
be  necessary,  before  all,  to  drive  back  the  horde,  so  soon  as 
possible,  into  the  territory  from  which  it  ought  never  to 
have  issued  forth,  to  drive  it  back  is  not  sufficient.  It  is 
necessary  to  create  in  Europe  a  political  situation  and  a 
moral  state  which  shall  prevent  the  turbulent  genius  of  the 
Grermanic  peoples  from  again  filling  the  pages  of  history 
with  a  second  venture  of  this  kind.  Together  with  the 
question  of  geographic  and  political  limits,  there  is  a  ques- 
tion of  moral  limits;  the  greatest,  perhaps,  that  has  ever 
been  presented  to  man :  the  question  as  to  the  limits  which 
states,  nations,  economic  interests,  intellectual  cultures,  shall 
know  how  to  set  to  their  ambition,  their  activity,  their  spirit 
of  competition  and  of  conquest.  For  the  whole  question 
lies  in  that.  The  European  War  shows  that  modern  civili- 
zation is  yet  more  powerful  than  even  its  most  ardent  admir- 
ers had  thought  it.  No  one,  I  believe,  would  have  dared  two 
years  ago  to  prophesy  that  the  greatest  states  of  Europe 
would  be  able  to  endure  for  years  a  war  of  this  magnitude. 
It  is  imquestionable  that  men  had  never  achieved  a  more 
stupendous  effort.  But  just  because  one  part  of  humanity 
has  arrived  at  a  degree  of  power  which  had  never  been 
attained,  the  question  today  is  to  know  to  what  use  it 
intends  to  put  that  force.  Does  it  intend  to  yield  it  as  a 
blind  instrument  of  destruction  to  pride,  to  cupidity,  to 
ambition,  so  that  they  may  periodically  precipitate  crises 
such  as  that  which  today  agitates  the  world?    Or  will  it 


188       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

desire  to  make  use  of  it  solely  in  definite  directions  and 
for  aims  which  shall  be  in  accord  with  a  high  and  noble 
ideal  of  hfe?  Will  it  succeed,  in  short,  in  imposing  on  its 
tremendous  force  some  moral  limits,  .  .  .  and  what? 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  future  of  Europe  depends  upon 
this  alternative.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  masses 
would  adapt  themselves  indefinitely  to  regard,  as  the  final 
expression  of  progress,  a  state  of  things  by  which,  period- 
ically, two  generations  should  work  tenaciously  so  as  to 
afford  to  the  third  the  means  of  exterminating  itself.  The 
world  in  w^hich  we  live,  huge  and  powerful,  but  unbalanced 
and  full  of  confusion,  requires  a  little  more  order,  harmony, 
justice,  beauty  and  measure.  The  crisis  in  which  Europe 
is  struggling  proves  clearly  that,  if  we  do  not  succeed  in 
raising  the  moral  tone  of  European  life,  the  civilization  of 
sword  and  science  will  end  in  a  kind  of  gigantic  suicide. 
The  task  which  awaits  Europe,  on  the  morrow  of  the  war, 
is,  then,  very  difficult;  for  it  Is  a  matter  of  nothing  less 
than  attempting  to  profound,  serious,  organic  reconciliation 
between  what  is  most  noble  and  most  beautiful  from  the 
moral,  religious  and  Intellectual  point  of  view  In  the  quali- 
tative civilizations  of  the  past,  and  the  new  forces  created 
by  our  age,  such  as  industrialism  and  democracy.  We  have, 
hitherto,  set  side  by  side  and  jumbled  up  all  these  contra- 
dictory elements ;  it  Is  necessary  to  blend  them.  Now  these 
adjustments,  when  they  are  not  superficial  hoaxes,  but  seri- 
ous attempts  to  lead  men  to  accomplish  their  duties  better, 
are  always  very  difficult,  demanding  a  great  spirit  of  sacri- 
fice, a  great  moral  energy,  the  ardent  faith  In  an  ideal. 
Our  age,  moreoyer,  has  achieved  things  too  great,  and 
obtained  too  much  success  in  over-passing  all  the  limits 
respected  by  our  ancestors,  not  to  feel  a  strong  attraction 
towards  the  limitless  greatness  of  quantity,  towards  all  that 


THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  LATIN  PEOPLES     189 

is  colossal,  unbalanced,  enormous,  violent.  The  task  then 
will  be  difficult.  .  .  .  But  if  human  nature  has  not  changed; 
if  beauty,  reason,  virtue,  have  not  lost  their  eternal  forces 
of  attraction  for  the  soul,  the  task  should  be  possible  and 
glorious.  It  is  not  conceivable  that  Europe  will  emerge 
from  this  crisis  without  understanding  that  there  are,  in 
contemporary  civilization,  some  excesses  which  we  must 
correct  under  pain  of  seeing  all  our  efforts  periodically 
annihilated  by  catastrophes.  It  is  the  struggle  between  the 
two  Gods  of  Olympus;  between  the  God  who  forges  the 
iron  and  the  God  who  knows  the  laws  of  the  necessary  pro- 
portions between  the  elements  of  life;  that  is  to  say,  the 
secret  of  health,  of  beauty,  of  truth,  of  virtue;  it  is  this 
struggle  which  has  provoked  the  immense  moral  crisis  from 
which  the  war  has  ensued.  We,  the  Latin  nations,  have 
suffered  more  than  the  other  nations  from  this  moral  crisis 
.  .  .  for  we  were  especially  devotees  of  the  God  who  is 
the  august  guardian  of  measure.  The  solution  of  this 
great  moral  crisis  would  be  compensation  to  us  for  the 
sacrifices  w^hich  this  crisis  in  history  imposes  on  us;  and 
no  country  would  have  so  well  deserved  it  as  France,  which 
has  made  the  greatest  sacrifices.  Like  all  the  foreigners 
whose  hearts  are  wrung  by  the  thought  of  all  that  France 
has  suffered  and  will  suffer  in  this  war,  I  ardently  hope  that 
it  will  usher  in  in  Europe  an  epoch  in  which  the  Latin 
genius  will  be  able  to  shine  with  its  full  radiance,  in  a  world 
which  will  understand  w^hat  is  order,  harmony,  reason,  hu- 
manity, better  than  the  last  generation  had  understood. 
France  is  entitled  to  this  recompense  for  the  terrible  sacri- 
fices that  she  endures  with  so  much  steadfastness;  and 
history  will  bestow  it  upon  her,  to  her  glory  and  for  the 
happiness  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  Intellectual  Problems  of  the  New  World 


THE  INTELLECTUAL  PROBLEMS  OF  THE 
NEW  WORLD 


There  is  perhaps  nothing  which  will  surprise  the  historians 
of  the  European  War  more  than  the  general  reconciliation 
of  parties  and  opinions  by  which  its  outbreak  was  followed. 
Strange  as  such  a  statement  may  appear,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  Europe  enjoyed  internal  peace  for  the  first  time 
during  the  greatest  war  history  has  ever  known.  The  most 
bitter  religious,  political  and  intellectual  feuds  were  for- 
gotten in  the  space  of  a  few  short  days  from  end  to  end 
of  a  continent  which  for  three  centuries  had  never  ceased 
to  afford  the  world  a  spectacle  of  ever  recurring  conflicts. 
This  extraordinary  phenomenon  has  been  one  of  the 
greatest  surprises  of  the  war.  At  the  same  time  it  is  one 
which  readily  admits  of  explanation.  Every  country 
realized  immediately  that  union  of  strength  was  absolutely 
necessary,  since  not  merely  its  prestige  or  the  possession 
of  some  special  territory,  but  its  very  life  was  at  stake. 
Undoubtedly  this  explanation  is  true  as  far  as  it  goes,  but 
it  does  not  go  far  enough.  The  phenomenon  is  in  reality 
more  complex  and  attributable  to  causes  which  lie  deeper. 
Reconciliation  is  almost  always  a  very  difficult  matter  when 
it  has  to  deal  with  animosities  fostered  and  intensified  by 
long  centuries  of  conflict;  on  this  occasion,  however, 
it  was  comparatively  easy,  because  the  European  War  in- 
volved in  serious  difficulties  all  the  parties  and  schools  of 
thought  which  had  striven  so  fiercely  for  the  mastery  in  time 
of  peace.     Much  as  each  party  or  the  adherents  of  each 

193 


194^  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

school  of  thought  would  have  enjoyed  casting  their  op- 
ponents' mistakes  in  their  teeth,  they  preferred  to  forgive, 
seeing  that  the  arguments  of  each  and  every  party  might  be 
turned  against  it. 

A  few  examples  will  make  this  clear.  What  Pacifist 
would  today  venture  to  assert  that  imiversal  peace  is  the 
necessary  result  of  the  evolution  of  modern  society? 
Such  Utopian  theories  have  been  carried  away  in  a  deluge 
of  blood.  On  the  other  hand,  what  opponent  of  pacifism 
would  dare  to  avow  that  when  he  maintained  the  necessity 
of  war,  he  had  in  his  mind  a  war  which  knows  no  limits 
whether  of  space,  time,  destruction  of  life  and  property, 
or  the  unscrupulousness  of  its  methods?  If  events  have 
proved  the  Pacifists  to  be  in  the  wrong,  they  have  so  far 
transcended  the  predictions  of  their  opponents  as  to  pre- 
clude any  possibility  of  triumph  for  the  advocates  of  war. 
It  is  of  course  clear  that  those  who,  at  a  time  when  Ger- 
many was  arming  herself  to  the  teeth,  demanded  the  re- 
duction of  armaments,  were  mistaken;  they  were,  how- 
ever, right  when  they  asserted  that  modern  armies  were 
being  developed  beyond  the  limits  set  by  nature  to  this 
organ  of  the  social  body.  It  is,  moreover,  evident  that 
one  reason  why  we  have  returned  to  the  war  of  position 
is  the  enormous  size  of  modern  armies  and  the  complicated 
nature  and  destructive  power  of  their  weapons.  The  war 
of  manoeuvre  demands  armies  which  are  relatively  small 
in  comparison  to  their  field  of  action,  can  be  readily  moved 
about  and  the  range  of  whose  weapons  does  not  exceed  a 
certain  limit.  But  how  can  a  war  of  position,  which  lasts 
for  years,  in  an  age  when  armies  are  composed  of  all  able 
bodied  men  between  eighteen  and  fifty  years  of  age,  fail 
to  lead  to  a  universal  cataclysm?  The  actual  outbreak 
of  the  European  War  proved  the  Pacifists  in  the  wrong, 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  195 

but  its  course  has  shown  them  to  be  right  in  declaring 
that  Europe's  vast  armed  hosts  would  not  ensure  her  peace 
and  would  make  the  next  war  an  appalling  social  catas- 
trophe. It  must  indeed  be  admitted  that  their  pessimistic 
predictions  fell  short  of  the  truth,  for  no  Pacifist  ever  so 
much  as  dreamed  of  so  long  and  terrible  a  conflict. 

If  we  turn  our  attention  to  the  relation  between  the 
European  War  and  the  political  doctrines  which  divided 
Europe  before  the  war,  we  shall  find  the  same  contradic- 
tion. Germany  had  many  admirers  all  over  the  world, 
more  especially  in  the  upper  classes,  simply  because  she 
represented,  or  seemed  to  represent,  the  principle  of  author- 
ity and  order.  Her  government  was  indeed,  as  we  know 
to  our  cost,  the  strongest  in  Europe,  the  only  one  perhaps 
which  did  not  as  yet  stand  in  awe  of  those  whom  it  was 
supposed  to  rule.  It  was  able  to  take  the  initiative  in  this 
war  and  to  inflict  this  appalling  scourge  upon  the  world  just 
because  it  was  so  strong  and  could  exercise  such  unlimited 
authority  over  its  people.  This  fact  will  in  the  eyes  of 
several  generations  lessen  the  prestige  still  enjoyed  by 
strong,  autocratic  governments.  The  existence  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  order  cannot  be  admitted  in  a  system  which  brought 
this  overwhelming  disaster  upon  the  world,  and,  whatever 
may  have  been  the  mistakes  and  weaknesses  of  the  demo- 
cratic and  parliamentary  governments  of  western  Europe 
—  and  they  were  only  too  numerous  —  posterity  will  judge 
them  leniently,  since  these  governments  would  never  have 
involved  the  world  in  this  w^ar,  or  violated  the  neutrality 
of  Belgium,  or  waged  war  in  so  barbarous  a  manner.  At 
the  same  time  the  world  will  be  forced  to  recognize  that 
a  little  more  farsightedness  before  the  war  and  a  little  more 
rapidity,  energy  and  intelligence  in  its  prosecution,  would 
have  been  of  material  service  to  these  governments.     It  is 


196       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

fairly  safe  to  predict  that  all  the  nations  concerned  will 
issue  from  the  war  more  or  less  dissatisfied  with  their  re- 
spective governments,  for  one  reason  or  another.  Seeing, 
however,  that  every  civilized  form  of  government  is  rep- 
resented among  the  belligerent  states,  the  European  War 
is  hardly  likely  to  furnish  any  decisive  argument  in  favour 
of  any  one  such  form;  it  is  more  likely  to  emphasize  the 
weak  points  of  all  the  various  systems  which  Europe  has 
created  and  tried  in  the  hope  of  finding  the  one  most  nearly 
approaching  perfection. 

The  same  thing  applies  to  the  much  disputed  subject  of 
protection  and  free  trade.  It  is  difficult  to  say  which  of 
these  two  theories,  each  of  which  has  had  such  ardent 
partisans  during  the  last  century,  is  likely  to  gain  by  the 
experiences  of  the  war,  which  seems  to  prove  protection 
and  free  trade  to  be  equally  necessary  and  equally  danger- 
ous. Has  it  not  shown  conclusively  that  national  defence 
is  impossible  without  the  support  of  certain  industries  which 
must  consequently  be  artificially  furthered  if  they  fail  to 
develop  naturally?  It  is  obvious  today  that  absolute  free 
trade  would  put  certain  European  countries  at  the  mercy 
of  others  from  a  military  point  of  view,  but  it  is  no 
less  clear  that  the  increasing  difficulties  with  which  all  the 
belligerents  have  to  cope  are  partly  due  to  the  hindrances 
placed  in  the  way  of  international  commerce  by  the  war. 
Food  supply  difficulties  have  exercised  great  influence  on 
the  course  of  the  war  and  are  likely  to  influence  its  out- 
come, but  these  difficulties  are  merely  the  result  of  the  sup- 
pression of  free  trade.  Just  as  absolute  free  trade  would 
have  placed  certain  countries  at  the  mercy  of  others,  the 
blockade,  that  is  to  say,  the  suppression  of  exchange,  will 
be  one  of  the  causes  of  the  eventual  capitulation  of  the 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  197 

Central  Empires.     Even  in  this  problem,  we  find  ourselves 
faced  by  an  insoluble  contradiction. 


II 

There  would  be  no  difficulty  in  finding  other  examples. 
Any  thoughtful  man  who  turns  his  attention  towards  the 
events  of  the  present  day  and  the  discussions  to  which  they 
give  rise,  will  easily  find  other  instances  to  which  these 
reflections  apply  and  understood  why  so  many  sworn  foes 
have  agreed  to  sink  their  differences.  The  various  political 
parties  suddenly  found  themselves  face  to  face  and  with- 
out weapons  of  defence.  The  war  has  had  the  effect  of 
a  philosophic  earthquake,  shaking  to  their  very  founda- 
tions the  most  diametrically  opposed  ideas  or  at  all  events 
those  which  claimed  to  solve  the  most  urgent  problems  of 
contemporary  life.  It  is  a  phenomenon  unique  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  and  one  which  is  worthy  the  attention 
of  all  thoughtful  minds  not  wholly  absorbed  by  the  military 
situation,  just  as  financiers  are  already  turning  their  atten- 
tion to  the  taxation  and  commercial  treaties  of  the  future. 
This  intellectual  upheaval  is  indeed  a  far  more  serious 
problem  than  the  destruction  of  wealth  and  probably  no  less 
so  than  the  destruction  of  so  many  human  lives  which 
were  the  hope  and  mainstay  of  Europe.  This  upheaval 
will  probably  be  the  point  of  departure  of  that  great  crisis 
of  modern  civilization  of  which  the  world  war  is  but  the 
prologue  —  a  crisis  which  promises  to  be  universal, 
economic,  intellectual  and  moral.  In  order  to  realize  the 
truth  of  this,  we  have  only  to  consider  the  position  after 
the  conclusion  of  peace  of  the  institutions,  parties  and 
theories  of  which  the  war  has  shown  the  weak  points  and 


198       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

falsified  the  predictions.  These  institutions,  political  par- 
ties and  theories,  which  ruled  European  society  with  vary- 
ing degrees  of  success  before  the  war,  will  find  themselves, 
as  it  w^ere,  in  an  empty  void,  and  the  probable  consequences 
of  such  a  position  and  the  moral  crisis  resulting  from  it 
are  easily  divined.  Hence  it  is  important  to  seek  its  causes. 
How  was  it  possible  for  so  learned  and  powerful  a  civiliza- 
tion to  be  suddenly  confronted  with  events  which  falsified 
so  many  of  its  beliefs,  shattered  so  many  of  its  hopes  and 
proved  all  it  had  thought  and  accomplished  during  two 
generations  to  be  erroneous?  How  could  it  fall  into  so 
gross  an  error? 

HI 

The  answer  to  this  question  is  simple.  The  error  was 
possible  because  our  civilization  had  too  many  aims  and, 
by  striving  to  attain  them  all  at  the  same  time,  had  lost  the 
power  of  selection.  This  expression  may  seem  obscure,  but 
I  will  endeavour  to  explain  it  by  choosing  the  most  obvious 
of  the  numerous  examples  which  lie  to  hand :  the  way  in 
which  Europe  had  faced  and  solved  one  of  those  great 
problems  which  have  engaged  the  attention  of  every  success- 
ive generation  —  the  problem  of  peace  and  war.  In  every 
age  there  have  been  discussions  as  to  peace  and  war,  their 
nature  and  the  part  they  play  in  the  world.  In  every  age 
there  have  been  men  who  looked  upon  perpetual  peace  as 
the  highest  good  and  others  who  regarded  law  as  the  divine 
law  of  life.  Without  entering  into  the  discussion  of  this 
subject,  we  may  safely  assert  that  there  have  been  periods 
when  the  principle  of  war  has  prevailed  and  others  when 
that  of  peace  has  been  predominant ;  that  both  have  accom- 
plished great  things  and  that  both  have  at  a  given  moment 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  199 

passed  through  a  crisis  determined  by  the  development  of 
the  principle  which  had  guided  them.  If  it  be  admitted 
that  each  state  is  a  sovereign  will,  which  neither  can  nor 
should  recognize  any  limit  to  its  liberty  save  the  greater 
strength  of  another  state,  the  principle  of  war  will  prevail. 
Each  state  will  strive  to  be  as  strong  as  possible;  it  will 
turn  every  citizen  into  a  soldier;  it  will  avoid  contact  with 
other  states,  that  is  to  say,  with  those  other  sovereign  wills 
which  are  fated  to  come  into  collision  with  its  own  will 
in  the  course  of  time ;  it  will  be  hostile  to  everything  which 
tends  to  make  the  peoples  of  different  countries  expand  and 
fuse  their  interests:  i.e.,  to  commerce,  treaties,  international 
marriages  and  the  adoption  of  foreign  customs.  It  will 
act  upon  what  I  may  call  the  principles  of  narrow  national- 
ism on  which  the  cities  of  ancient  times  w^ere  founded; 
the  system  prevalent  in  part  of  the  classical  world  before 
the  Pax  Romana.  It  cannot  be  said  that  this  regime  is  in 
itself  opposed  to  human  nature  or  radically  bad,  when  we 
reflect  how  much  was  accomplished  by  ancient  civilizations 
under  it,  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  be  admitted  that  each 
state  is  subject  to  a  higher  law  of  fraternity,  charity  and 
moral  perfection,  of  which  it  is  but  the  instrument,  political 
and  military  organization  will  lose  much  of  its  importance 
and  the  necessity  of  fulfiling  this  higher  duty  will  lead  men 
to  fuse  their  interests,  ideas  and  sentiments.  We  have  an 
example  of  this,  due  to  the  influence  of  Christianity,  in 
mediaeval  Europe.  The  peoples  of  Europe  had  almost  en- 
tirely lost  their  political  and  military  spirit;  they  were  no 
longer  capable  of  organizing  a  great  state ;  their  wars,  which 
occupy  so  large  a  place  in  our  modern  histories,  were  mere 
child's  play,  since  they  did  not  know  how  to  raise  even  a 
small  army  and  had  lost  the  art  of  strategy.  The  intellect- 
ual and  moral  frontiers  between  nations  had  vanished  and 


200       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

given  place  to  a  cosmopolitanism  of  which  Latin  was  the 
official  language.  The  disadvantages  of  cosmopolitanism 
were  indoubtedly  great,  but  here  again  the  system  cannot 
be  condemned  as  in  itself  opposed  to  human  nature  or 
radically  bad.  The  Middle  Ages  were  amongst  the  greatest 
periods  in  the  history  of  Europe  —  a  period  to  which  we  are 
immensely  indebted.  It  gradually  populated  countries 
which  the  upheavals  following  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire 
had  depopulated ;  it  brought  many  barbarians  under  the  in- 
fluence of  civilization;  it  brought  forth  marvellous  arts  — 
architecture,  for  instance.  Moreover,  it  was  under  this 
regime  of  political  cosmopolitanism  that  Europe  began  that 
magnificent  work  of  exploration  which  has  made  the  whole 
world  ours. 

It  is  therefore  clear  that  man  can  live  under  either  a 
national  or  a  cosmopolitan  regime  and  neither  will  prevent 
his  contributing  his  quota  to  that  great  and  mysterious  task 
of  history  whose  purpose  we  vainly  seek  to  read.  Both  sys- 
tems have  their  weak  points  and  drawbacks ;  like  all  things 
human,  they  have  their  limits  and  at  some  given  time  they 
become  exhausted;  they  may,  however,  none  the  less  be  of 
service  to  what  we  somewhat  vaguely  term  the  progress  of 
the  world,  provided  that  man  makes  a  definite  choice  between 
them  and  accepts  all  their  inevitable  disadvantages.  The 
inhabitants  of  classical  cities  did  not  aspire  to  the  advantages 
of  cosmopolitanism,  just  as  the  peoples  of  the  Middle  Ages 
resigned  themselves  to  the  drawbacks  of  political  dismem- 
berment and  disarmament.  The  weakness  of  the  individual 
state  was  an  essential  condition  of  the  cosmopolitanism  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  just  as  the  spirit  of  exclusion  was  an 
essential  condition  of  Sparta  and  Rome.  Where  our  age 
has  failed  is  in  its  inability  to  choose  between  two  principles 
and  two  systems.     By  developing  to  the  utmost  a  movement 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  201 

which  began  in  the  seventeenth  century,  it  has  confused 
these  two  distinct  principles,  just  as  if  it  were  possible  for 
them  to  develop  side  by  side  without  the  time  ever  coming 
when  one  of  them  would  say  to  the  other :  "  Thus  far  and 
no  farther,"  thus  making  a  choice  absolutely  unavoidable. 
It  had  apparently  adopted  the  principle  of  peace.  The  vari- 
ous states  of  Europe,  large  and  small  alike,  had  made  end- 
less treaties  and  agreements.  They  had  all  allowed  for- 
eigners to  reside,  move  about  freely,  own  property,  engage 
in  commerce  and  marry  within  their  borders.  They  had 
done  everything  in  their  power  to  encourage  the  exchange 
of  capital,  merchandise,  ideas,  discoveries  and  tastes.  We 
had  ceased  to  possess  an  international  language  like  Latin, 
but  there  was  more  study  of  languages,  and  important  books 
were  translated  into  all  the  leading  languages.  Interna- 
tionalism was  ostentatiously  advocated  by  certain  political 
parties  and  an  international  organization  of  interests  had 
come  into  existence  which  was  to  a  certain  extent  the  neces- 
sary condition  of  the  interior  well-being  of  each  nation. 
The  Great  Powers  of  Europe  had  moreover  recognized  of- 
ficially, though  with  varying  degrees  of  good  faith,  the 
maintenance  of  peace  as  the  end  and  object  of  their  policy  — 
an  aim  to  which  everything  else  was  to  be  subordinate.  Our 
age  had  indeed  created  a  cosmopolitanism  which  in  certain 
respects  recalled  the  Middle  Ages.  The  logical  consequence 
was  that  the  opposite  principle  of  war  should  have  been  so 
limited  that  wars  endangering  this  international  order,  this 
comity  of  nations,  by  their  length,  their  extent  or  their  dura- 
tion would  be  absolutely  impossible.  This  was  not  the  case. 
A  political  organization  of  the  Great  Powers,  recalling  in 
many  ways  the  nationalism  and  belligerent  spirit  of  the  cities 
of  ancient  times,  but  on  a  far  vaster  scale,  was  grafted  on 
to  this  cosmopolitanism.     The  Great  European  Powers  for 


202  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUTl 

various  reasons  vied  with  each  other  in  theincrease  of  arma- 
ments such  as  the  world  had  never  seen  —  armaments  which 
turned  war  into  a  duel  a  outrance,  just  as  in  the  days  w^hen 
each  state  looked  upon  each  of  its  neighbours  as  an  enemy. 
In  almost  every  country  national  pride,  suspicion  or  hatred 
of  neighbouring  peoples,  the  spirit  of  jealousy  and  rivalry, 
the  desire  to  be  the  first  in  everything  were  all  sedulously 
fostered,  just  as  though  we  were  living  in  a  perpetual  state 
of  w^ar.  In  the  most  pow^erful  military  empire  of  Europe 
we  have  even  seen  the  development  of  a  school  enjoying 
official  protection,  which  preached  to  an  unprotesting  world 
the  doctrine  of  war  knowing  neither  law  nor  limit,  contempt 
for  treaties,  the  divine  nature  of  force  and  the  uselessness 
of  the  rights  of  civilians.  This  school,  intoxicated  by 
official  protection  and  the  admiration  of  the  world,  ended  by 
making  Germiany  ready  to  make  war  upon  the  most  highly 
civilized  nations  of  Europe,  her  best  customers  and  most 
sincere  admirers,  with  the  ferocity  of  African  savages  be- 
fore they  came  under  European  rule.  It  is  no  exaggeration 
to  say  that  the  nationalism  grafted  by  Europe  on  to  the  in- 
terests and  aspirations  of  cosmopolitanism  was  far  bolder 
and  far  more  dangerous  than  the  nationalism  of  the  ancient 
world,  which  did  at  all  events  recognize  the  sanctity  of' 
treaties.  A  treaty  was  a  sacred  thing,  placed  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  divinity,  and  binding  the  contracting  parties 
unconditionally.  A  state  which  desired  to  violate  a  treaty 
had  to  try  and  prove  that  it  was  really  being  true  to  it,  since 
it  would  have  been  an  unheard  of  thing  for  it  to  declare  that 
it  no  longer  intended  to  carry  it  out  because  it  no  longer 
served  its  purposes,  a  theory  which  it  was  reserved  for  tw^en- 
tieth  century  Europe  to  teach  in  its  universities  —  a  theory 
evolved  in  Germany,  of  course,  but  received  favourably  even 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  203 

in  the  universities  of  those  countries  which  are  now  fighting 
against  her. 

IV 

It  is  obvious  enough  today  that  if  peace  and  war  be  two 
natural  conditions  of  human  nature,  we  have,  by  our  unwise 
confusion  of  the  principles  of  peace  and  war,  invented  a 
high  explosive  which  has  ended  by  destroying  Europe. 
Europe  had,  however,  gradually  become  so  used  to  this 
unique  and  paradoxical  situation  that  she  looked  upon  it  as 
quite  natural.  The  various  efforts  made  to  rouse  her  to 
a  realization  of  her  imminent  peril  all  failed.  This  illusion 
was  after  all  but  a  special  instance  of  a  more  universal 
illusion  to  which  our  civilization  fell  victim,  which  was  the 
foundation  of  our  whole  mode  of  thought  and  of  our  con- 
ception of  the  world,  and  will  probably  be  looked  upon  by 
our  grandchildren  as  positively  childish:  i.  e.,  the  illusion 
that  man  can  have  anything  in  the  world  without  its  corre- 
sponding drawbacks  —  the  advantages  of  war  and  the  bene- 
fits of  peace ;  both  power  and  perfection,  both  quantity  and 
quality,  both  speed  and  beauty.  Our  age  is  the  most  learned 
which  the  world  has  ever  seen,  but,  in  spite  of  its  immense 
learning,  it  had  contrived  to  forget  one  very  simple  truth 
which  far  more  ignorant  peoples  have  borne  in  mind :  that 
the  good  things  of  this  world  are  so  intimately  interrelated 
that  it  is  impossible  to  enjoy  them  all  at  the  same  time  for 
an  indefinite  period.  A  moment  invariably  comes  when 
one  becomes  the  limit  of  the  other  and  a  choice  must  be 
made  between  them.  This  simple  truth,  of  which  w^e  lost 
sight  in  our  quest  of  power  and  riches,  is  the  key  to  the 
whole  of  the  vast  tragedy  which  the  world  finds  so  hard  to 
understand.     The  contradiction  between  the  two  principles 


204       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

of  peace  and  war  which  we  have  studied  has  not  been  the 
only  error  into  which  our  age  has  fallen.  But  for  the  limi- 
tations of  space,  we  might  analyse  in  like  manner  the  anti- 
thesis between  the  other  principles  of  which  we  have  spoken : 
liberty  and  authority,  tradition  and  progress,  ethics  and  eco- 
nomic interests.  We  should  find  everywhere,  when  compar- 
ing our  age  with  its  predecessors,  the  same  phenomenon: 
the  attempt  to  reconcile  two  irreconcilable  principles  instead 
of  assigning  definite  limits  to  each  and  then  choosing  be- 
tween them.  Our  epoch,  which  was  the  first  to  attempt  this 
compromise,  has  done  so  in  every  sphere :  in  politics,  ethics, 
law,  and  even  in  art.  Those  who  deplore  the  decadence  of 
art  in  the  modern  world  are  constantly  told  that  no  other 
age  has  so  striven  to  understand  and  appreciate  the  most 
w^idely  different  schools,  styles  and  artists.  The  remark 
itself  is  true  enough,  but  the  conclusion  drawn  from  it  is 
not  equally  so,  since  this  endeavour  to  admire  everything 
results  from  an  inability  to  make  a  definite  choice  peculiar 
to  our  day.  The  ages  which  gave  birth  to  the  greatest  works 
of  art  were  limited  in  their  tastes.  When  artistic  taste  com- 
prehends so  many  different  styles,  it  becomes  feeble  and 
superficial  and  ends  in  becoming  mere  dilettantism  which 
weakens  the  creative  power  of  the  artist  when  he  has  not 
the  strength  to  rise  above  the  caprices  of  fashion.  The 
.effects  of  this  inability  to  choose  are,  however,  nothing  like 
as  injurious  to  art  as  to  law,  politics  and  ethics.  The  en- 
feeblement  of  governments,  their  inconsistencies,  the  irri- 
tability and  uncertainty  of  public  opinion  in  every  country, 
the  short-sighted  fatalism  prevalent  before  the  war,  the  in- 
toxication of  public  opinion  in  Germany,  are  one  and  all  the 
offspring  of  this  intellectual  and  moral  confusion.  When 
an  age  ceases  to  be  governed  by  clear  and  definite  principles, 
its  actions  will  be  either  slow  and  uncertain  or  violent  and 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  205 

passionate,  and  Europe  before  the  war  was  in  both  these 
frames  of  mind.  A  nation  which  was  a  prey  to  diaboHc 
pride,  unlimited  greed,  unbounded  confidence  in  its  own 
strength  and  superiority,  was  surrounded  by  vacillating,  per- 
plexed peoples,  conscious  of  their  own  weakness  and  of  the 
peril  threatening  them,  but  unable  to  do  anything  to  avert 
the  dreaded  catastrophe  and  even,  from  time  to  time,  de- 
ceiving themselves  into  thinking  that  the  frenzy  of  their 
dangerous  neighbour  could  be  held  in  check  by  smiles  and 
concessions.  The  intellectual  and  moral  confusion,  which 
dominated  our  epoch  and  made  a  course  of  action  having 
definite  aims  and  dictated  by  definite  principles  an  im- 
possibility, had  brought  about  two  opposite  results :  an  ever 
increasing  frenzy  in  Germany  and  an  ever  increasing  dis- 
quietude in  every  other  country,  and  it  was  inevitable  that 
this  frenzy  should  one  day  break  out  openly  in  central 
Europe  and  claim  as  its  victims  the  perplexed  peoples  of 
the  neighbouring  lands. 


How  could  such  an  enlightened  epoch  as  our  own  cherish 
the  delusion  that  it  is  possible  to  possess  everything  at  the 
same  time?  What  part  was  played  in  the  great  drama  of 
modern  history  by  that  inability  to  choose  which  resulted 
from  this  illusion  and  is  characteristic  of  our  age?  Here 
we  ha-ve  the  great  problem  which  Europe  must  face  once 
more  and  endeavour  to  solve  definitely  after  the  war,  when 
so  many  institutions  and  theories  which  seemed  founded 
upon  the  rock  will  prove  to  have  been  built  upon  the  sand.  I 
said  that  Europe  must  face  this  problem  once  more  and  en- 
deavour to  solve  it  definitely,  because  it  has  been  continually 
discussed  under  the  most  varied  forms  during  the  last  cen- 
tury.    The  two  solutions  found  seem,  however,  to  have  been 


206  EUKOrE'S  lATi^FUL,  HUUK 

mere  makeshifts,  since  one  of  them  regarded  this  confusion 
merely  as  an  aberration  of  minds  led  astray  by  pride  and 
false  doctrine,  while  the  other  looked  upon  it  as  a  higher 
condition,  a  kind  of  perfection  attained  at  last  by  part  of 
the  human  race.  The  time  has  perhaps  come  when  man 
will  more  readily  realize  the  inadequacy  of  both  these  solu- 
tions. It  is  not  difficult  to  prove  that,  far  from  being  a 
mere  collective  aberration,  this  confusion  was  the  condition 
of  an  immense  effort  made  by  the  two  last  centuries.  It 
must  not  be  forgotten,  if  we  would  understand  the  modern 
world  and  its  crises,  that  Europe  has  for  two  hundred  years 
been  engaged  upon  two  gigantic  tasks  without  precedent  in 
history.  She  has  been  striving  to  organize  society  and  the 
state  on  wholly  new  principles,  such  as  the  will  of  the  people, 
liberty,  the  concept  of  progress,  nationality  and  its  rights, 
and  she  was  at  the  same  time  endeavouring  to  populate  the 
whole  earth  and  turn  it  to  account  with  the  help  of  marvel- 
lous instruments,  thus  making  the  whole  world  one.  In 
order  to  succeed  in  both  these  tasks  she  had  to  stimulate 
the  energy,  initiative,  activity  and  capacity  for  work  of 
every  class, —  an  unceasing  effort  which  has  been  consider- 
ably furthered  by  the  illusion  that  man  can  have  all  the  good 
things  of  this  world  at  the  same  time,  and  by  the  mental 
fog  which  leads  him  to  confuse  beauty  and  ugliness,  good 
and  evil,  truth  and  error.  Men  and  ages  alike,  when  aiming 
at  rapid  and  continual  success,  are  fond  of  imagining  them- 
selves omnipotent  and  are  unwilling  to  be  hampered  by 
definite  ethical,  logical  or  aesthetic  principles,  which,  while 
sure  rules  of  conduct,  are  also  definite  limitations.  A  civil- 
ization which  aimed  at  the  rapid  creation  of  wealth,  insti- 
tutions, conceptions,  theories,  machinery  and  new  nations, 
was  bound  to  hate  all  modes  of  thought  and  all  laws  which 
would  have  hampered  it  and  to  adopt  standards  sufficiently 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  207 

flexible  to  approve  as  good  and  beautiful  everything  which 
favoured  its  many  and  varied  interests. 

This  confusion,  which  has  been  considered  a  mere  aberra- 
tion, was  therefore  the  essential  condition  of  what  we  have 
rightly  or  wrongly  called  the  progress  of  our  age.  Must  we 
then  conclude  that  those  who  regarded  this  confusion  as  a 
state  of  perfection  were  in  the  right?  In  default  of  other 
reasons,  the  crisis  of  so  many  institutions  and  opposing  doc- 
trines, which  began  with  the  European  War,  would  be 
enough  to  make  us  doubt  it.  If  the  principles  of  authority 
and  liberty,  of  pacifism  and  militarism,  of  nationalism  and 
cosmopolitanism,  have  all  alike  been  affected  by  the  war,  it 
would  be  absurd  to  conclude  that  they  are  all  alike  false  and 
that  they  must  one  and  all  disappear.  They  are  all  prin- 
ciples which  have  ruled  human  society  and  it  is  obvious 
that  they  must  continue  to  do  so,  since  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive of  a  state  not  dominated  by  one  or  other  of  them. 
What  else  is  then  proved  by  this  universal  crisis  of  necessary 
institutions  and  doctrines  but  that  we  must  no  longer  strive 
to  reconcile  and  blend  opposing  principles  as  we  have  hith- 
erto done ;  that  we  must  no  longer  desire  peace  and  prepare 
for  war  at  the  same  time,  multiply  the  prerogatives  of  the 
state  and  diminish  its  authority  and  its  prestige,  worship 
both  right  and  force  and  confuse  success  with  perfection? 

VI 

We  see  then  that  there  are  numerous  indications  that  the 
time  is  approaching  when  Europe  will  have  to  choose  one 
of  the  various  principles  which  she  had  confounded.  If  this 
be  the  case,  we  can  also  see  what  a  tremendous  intellectual 
task  will  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  new  world,  which  will  have  to 
substitute  systems  of  philosophy,  ethics,  politics,  law  and 


208       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

religion,  schools  of  art  and  learning  whose  aim  it  will  be  to 
distinguish  between  opposing  principles  from  those  which 
endeavoured  to  reconcile  and  fuse  them  —  an  attempt  to 
which  they  owe  the  success  which  they  have  enjoyed  during 
the  last  half  century.  Thus  stated,  the  change  seems  simple 
enough,  but  those  who  have  to  initiate  it  will  soon  realize 
that  it  involves  a  far  reaching  intellectual  revolution.  The 
whole  question  of  German  versus  Latin  culture,  which  has 
been  the  subject  of  such  heated  discussions  since  19 14,  con- 
tains in  itself  a  dim  presentiment  of  the  necessity  and  diffi- 
culty of  this  intellectual  revolution.  Since  that  fateful  date 
there  has  been  one  continual  protest  against  the  supremacy 
of  the  obscure  and  ill-balanced  Teutonic  genius  over  the 
lucid  and  harmonious  Latin  genius.  How  was  it  possible 
to  prefer  obscurity  and  complication  to  lucidity  and  simplic- 
ity? Why  was  the  brilliant  Latin  genius  dimmed  by  the 
fogs  borne  by  the  north  wind  from  the  forests  of  Germany  ? 
Surely  this  s-tate  of  things  must  come  to  an  end.  On  all 
hands  it  is  admitted  that  the  Latin  and  the  Germanic  genius 
are  irreconcilably  opposed.  What  is  the  meaning  of  all 
these  protests  and  recriminations? 

What  has  already  been  said,  and  a  careful  comparison  of 
modern  civilization  with  the  civilizations  of  ancient  times 
will  help  us  again  here.  The  lucidity  of  the  Latin  genius 
is  merely  the  endeavour  to  define  principles  exactly,  to  pre- 
vent their  being  confused  with  one  another,  and  conse- 
quently to  lay  down  accurate  and  certain  laws.  German 
obscurity,  which  has  so  frequently  been  taken  for  depth,  is 
the  attempt  to  confound  principles  by  weakening  the  force 
of  laws.  In  philosophy,  law,  ethics,  history,  in  every 
branch  of  learning  indeed,  the  German  mind  has,  more 
especially  during  the  last  two  centuries,  steadily  confounded 
principles  and  definitions,  demolished  traditions,  confused 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  209 

good  and  evil,  the  beautiful  and  the  ugly,  the  true  and  the 
false,  in  order  to  give  a  freer  rein  to  passions  and  interests. 
The  moral  and  intellectual  confusion  of  our  age  is  not 
wholly  the  work  of  the  German  mind;  other  peoples,  even 
the  Latin  races  themselves,  have  helped  to  bring  it  about, 
but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  German  mind  has  accom- 
plished more  in  this  direction  than  any  other,  and  it  is  just 
because  it  has  been,  often  under  the  cloak  of  liberty,  the  most 
determined  and  energetic  factor  in  this  untold  disorder,  that 
in  spite  of  or,  it  may  be,  on  account  of  its  faults,  it  has  con- 
trived to  obtain  the  pre-eminence  in  the  modem  world.  It 
appealed  to  the  tendencies  of  an  age  which  would  submit  to 
no  discipline  but  that  imposed  by  work  and  the  state  and 
aspired  in  everything  else,  in  art  and  private  morals,  in 
religion  and  family  life,  in  business  and  pleasure  alike,  to 
an  ever  increasing  measure  of  liberty.  Even  obscurity  of 
form  had  become  a  virtue,  since  it  served  to  conceal  the  in- 
coherence of  contradictory  doctrines.  Kant,  one  of  the 
most  involved  writers  of  any  age  or  country,  was  the  most 
highly  esteemed  philosopher  of  the  nineteenth  century :  why? 
Because  contradiction  was  the  very  essence  of  his  system.' 
His  materialistic  spirituality,  his  absolute  relativism,  his 
theistic  atheism,  his  free  determinism,  were  admirably  suited 
to  a  period  which  thought  it  did  well  to  admit  all  principles, 
even  to  the  most  contradictory,  so  as  to  make  use  of  them 
all.  Obscurity  was  a  valuable  quality  to  a  system  which 
was  based  upon  contradiction.  If  Kant  had  written  like 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas  or  Descartes,  the  world  would  perforce 
have  seen  all  those  contradictions  which  he  was  anxious  to 
conceal  from  it. 

The  hatred  of  Germanism  which  is  now  prevalent  leads 
us  then  to  the  same  conclusion  as  the  examination  of  the 
position  of  political  parties  and  doctrines  at  the  close  of  the 


210       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

war.  We  must  strive  to  emerge  from  the  intellectual  and 
moral  confusion  by  which  we  were  surrounded  when  the 
war  broke  out,  and  if  we  are  to  do  so,  we  must  make  a 
great  intellectual  effort  in  the  direction  indicated  by  our 
analysis  of  this  confusion.  We  must  induce  coming  gen- 
erations to  aim  rather  less  at  power  and  rather  more  at 
perfection;  we  must  teach  the  mind  to  find  enjoyment  once 
more  in  lucidity  of  thought  and  simplicity  of  sentiment;  we 
must  familiarize  man  in  a  world  grown  so  wide,  and  a 
civilization  become  so  powerful,  with  the  idea  of  the  impass- 
able limits  of  truth,  beauty,  virtue,  reason  and  power,  which 
men  understood  so  readily  when  they  were  weaker  and  more 
ignorant;  we  must  discover  scholars,  artists,  writers  and 
philosophers  endowed  with  not  only  the  intelligence  but  also 
the  moral  force  necessary  for  the  accomplishment  of  this 
task.  Will  Europe  be  equal  to  this  effort?  The  future 
alone  can  tell.  It  would  seem,  however,  as  if  not  only  the 
possibility  of  a  lasting  peace,  but  the  very  existence  of  the 
older  civilized  peoples  depended  on  this  transformation. 
We  have  always  felt  somewhat  out  of  place  amid  this 
confusion,  which  was  only  suited  to  nations,  which,  like  the 
German  peoples,  were  subject  to  fits  of  passion  and  attacks 
of  collective  madness.  Of  this  the  present  crisis  affords  a 
proof.  The  governments  of  the  nations  now  arrayed 
against  Germany  and  Austria  have  frequently  been  re- 
proached for  their  lack  of  military  preparedness.  It  is, 
however,  beyond  question  that  this  unpreparedness,  at  least 
in  so  far  as  France,  Great  Britain  and  Italy  are  concerned, 
was  not  due  merely  to  lack  of  foresight  on  the  part  of  their 
respective  governments.  We  allowed  ourselves  to  be  out- 
distanced by  Germany  in  the  race  for  armaments  partly  be- 
cause we  realized  that  this  race  was  madness  and  that  the 
exaggeration  of  the  system  was  making  it  absurd.     Not 


PROBLEMS  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD  211 

being  blinded,  like  the  German  people,  by  pride,  covetous- 
ness  and  ambition,  we  shrank  from  developing  a  system 
whose  excesses,  complications,  difficulties,  untold  sacrifices 
and  dangers  were  more  or  less  clearly  perceived  by  all 
nations.  We  were  wrong,  of  course,  and  we  are  now  ex- 
piating our  mistake.  This  expiation  will  not,  however, 
render  reasoning  nations  better  able  to  play  their  part  in  a 
world  dominated  by  the  absurd  and  its  train  of  attendant 
passions.  It  is  therefore  a  matter  of  life  and  death  for  us 
to  lead  the  policy  and  institutions  of  Europe  back  to  more 
humane  and  logical  conceptions  than  those  prevalent  dur- 
ing the  last  half  century,  since  in  a  world  ruled  by  passions 
and  theories  carried  to  extreme,  those  of  us  who  are  rea- 
sonable beings  will  always  be  at  a  disadvantage  and  will 
end  by  becoming  the  victims  of  the  madman  and  the  tur- 
bulent. It  is  above  all  for  this  reason  that  we  must  do 
everything  in  our  power  to  bring  the  war  to  a  victorious 
end.  We  shall  not  deliver  Europe  from  the  insanity  of 
which  she  all  but  died  unless  we  succeed  in  defeating  that 
army  which  is  the  master-piece  of  that  rabid  spirit  to  which 
Europe  has  been  forced  to  submit  for  the  last  forty  years  — 
a  spirit  which  she  had  even  come  to  admire  from  time 
to  time.  This  is  the  task  of  the  soldiers  of  whom  we  think 
with  such  tenderness  and  with  the  hope  that  they  may  ac- 
complish it  ere  long  and  with  such  a  meed  of  success  that 
their  sacrifices  may  not  be  in  vain.  When,  however,  their 
work  is  finished,  the  task  of  scholars,  philosophers  and  law- 
yers will  begin  and  we  must  only  hope  that  their  patience, 
tenacity  and  self-sacrifice  will  prove  worthy  of  the  soldiers 
who  are  preparing  the  way  for  better  times  —  times  in  which 
Europe,  far  removed  from  the  perils  which  menace  her  on 
every  hand  today,  may  live  in  peace  and  safety  in  the  light 
of  newer  and  loftier  conceptions. 


CHAPTER  VII 
The  Great  Contradiction 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION 

When  we  consider  the  present  state  of  things  in  Europe, 
we  invariably  find  ourselves  confronted  by  the  question  — 
a  question  as  persistent  as  the  importunate  widow,  a  ques- 
tion which  has  never  yet  been  satisfactorily  answered  — 
How  is  it  that  an  epoch  so  concentrated  on  the  increase  of 
wealth,  the  greater  security  of  life  and  the  establishment 
of  the  universal  rule  of  reason  could  prepare,  will  and  wage 
this  appalling  conflict?  We  will  make  one  more  attempt 
to  find  the  answer  to  this  poignant  and  ever  recurring  ques- 
tion. 

I 

PATRIOTISM    AND   PROGRESS 

The  old  proverb  tells  us  that  **  it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
nobody  good,"  and  even  in  the  terrible  calamities  of  the 
world  war  we  may  find  some  ground  for  encouragement. 
It  was  commonly  supposed  that  if  a  European  war  ever 
broke  out,  and  reason  and  compassion  failed  to  do  their 
work,  egotism  would  issue  the  order  to  lay  down  arms. 
It  was  further  alleged  that  in  every  grade  of  society  men 
had  been  too  long  accustomed  to  an  easy  and  safe  existence 
to  endure  the  ruin  and  privation  of  a  universal  war.  We 
were  told  that  revolution  w^ould  be  the  inevitable  result 
if  the  war  lasted  more  than  three  months.  Our  century 
was  credited  with  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  and  abnega- 
tion for  a  few  weeks  at  most.  The  General  Staffs  of 
Europe  recognized  self-interest  as  their  sovereign  and  de- 
clared that  they  would  never  go  to  war  except  in  obedience 
to  his  orders.     When  the  history  of  the  Great  War  comes 

215 


£16       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

to  be  written,  it  will  be  seen  that  almost  all  the  blunders  and 
cruelties  of  its  early  days  were  due  to  haste.  The  rulers 
who  had  willed  the  great  adventure  set  out  with  the  fixed 
idea  that  the  campaign  must  be  finished  quickly  because  no 
nation  would  stand  a  long  ordeal.  Here,  however,  we  did 
ourselves  scant  justice.  None  of  these  prophecies  has  been 
fulfilled.  In  July,  19 14,  the  dissensions  which  had  so  long 
troubled  Europe  seemed  to  take  on  a  fresh  lease  of  life. 
Civil  war  appeared  imminent  in  Ireland.  In  France  the 
two  parties  which  had  for  centuries  been  at  loggerheads, 
had  flown  at  each  other's  throats  in  the  confined  area  of 
the  law  courts.  In  Italy  there  had  been  a  sort  of  dress  re- 
hearsal of  revolution.  In  Russia  millions  of  workmen 
had  gone  on  strike.  In  Austria  each  of  the  many  races 
of  which  the  Empire  is  composed  was  endeavouring  to 
shift  the  blame  for  the  assassination  at  Sarajevo  on  to  the 
shoulders  of  its  neighbours.  But  in  the  forty-eight  hours 
from  July  30th  to  August  ist,  when  it  became  apparent 
that  war  was  inevitable,  all  these  dissensions  were  laid- 
aside.  Even  France,  the  country  whose  geographical  posi- 
tion and  history  alike  have  made  it  the  storm  centre  of 
Europe  for  centuries  —  the  land  in  which  the  struggle  be- 
tween Teutonism  and  Latinism,  Protestantism  and  Catholi- 
cism, authority  and  liberty,  the  principle  of  quantity  and  the 
principle  of  quality  have  never  ceased  —  had  but  one  heart 
and  one  soul,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  since  the  days  of 
Julius  Caesar.  Not  only  did  political  and  religious  discords 
cease,  but  the  mutual  recriminations  of  riches  and  poverty 
also  came  to  an  end.  Socialism  betook  itself  to  the  near- 
est barracks  and  donned  its  uniform  as  meekly  as  a  young 
conscript  fresh  from  his  native  village.  Moreover,  today, 
after  more  than  three  years  of  war  in  which  millions  of 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  217 

men  have  been  killed  and  wounded,  untold  wealth  destroyed, 
and  the  whole  order  of  things  we  had  known  for  so  many 
years  demolished,  not  one  of  the  belligerent  nations  has 
uttered  a  cry  for  mercy.  History  had  never  subjected  such 
an  immense  number  of  men  to  such  an  ordeal  and  the  great 
ordeal  has  been  so  magnificently  borne  as  to  be  almost 
miraculous.  But  each  of  the  so-called  miracles  of  history 
is  a  slow  process  accomplished  secretly  by  time  and  sud- 
denly revealed  to  man  in  its  completed  state.  We  find 
the  explanation  of  this  miracle,  too,  in  the  revolutionary 
changes  which  began  in  Europe  after  the  discovery  of 
America  to  which  we  have  so  often  turned  for  the  key  to 
the  calamities  of  the  present  day  changes,  which  by  giving 
a  fresh  aim  to  existence,  gradually  rendered  the  world  more 
uniform  and  hence  more  harmonious.  It  is  of  course 
obvious  that  modern  civilization  is  more  uniform  than  its 
predecessors;  for  proof  of  this  assertion  we  only  have  to 
compare  Europe  and  America,  and  the  most  ancient  lands 
of  Europe  with  its  more  modern  countries.  Most  people, 
however,  fail  to  realize  clearly  that  this  difference  too  results 
from  the  transition  from  ancient  qualitative  civilization  to 
its  modern  quantitative  successor.  The  man  who  aims  at 
perfection  must  of  necessity  work  in  limited  sphere;  he 
must,  that  is  to  say,  choose  one  of  the  innumerable  types 
of  perfection  with  which  he  is  confronted,  without,  how- 
ever, concentrating  all  his  powers  of  soul  and  intellect 
upon  it  or  ignoring  or  rejecting  all  the  rest,  for  there  is 
no  surer  way  of  being  mediocre  in  everything  than  to  aim 
at  too  many  different  types  of  perfection.  Variety,  isola- 
tion and  discord  are  consequently  the  very  essence  of  all 
qualitative  civilization,  which  aims  at  one  or  more  types 
of  perfection :  hence  the  countless  religious,  artistic,  literary, 


218       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

moral  and  political  struggles  which  rent  the  world  asunder 
in  times  past.  At  the  present  day  the  only  violent  struggles 
are  those  between  races  and  languages,  where  one  race  is 
governed  by  another  which  wishes  to  force  it  into  allegi- 
ance to  an  alien  people  and  tongue.  The  other  struggles 
—  religious,  artistic,  literary,  moral  and  political  —  have 
for  the  last  fifty  years  been  gradually  growing  feebler  in 
both  Europe  and  America.  What  is  the  reason  of  this 
change?  It  is  because  in  proportion  as  quantity  dominates 
the  world  and  man  chooses  the  conquest  of  the  earth  as  his 
aim  rather  than  beauty,  glory,  heroism,  honour,  and  holi- 
ness, the  differences  which  in  time  gone  by  aroused  such 
bitter  hatred  and  caused  so  many  wars  gradually  lose  their 
force  and  finally  vanish  altogether.  Europe  still  numbers 
among  her  inhabitants  Catholics  and  Protestants,  laymen 
and  clergy,  the  proletariat,  the  middle  classes  and  the 
nobility,  the  learned  and  the  ignorant,  romanticists  and 
classicists,  conservatives  and  liberals,  monarchists  and 
republicans,  but  the  men  of  the  present  day  hardly  notice 
these  differences  when  they  are  labouring  together  to  con- 
quer the  wealth  of  the  world, —  an  enterprise  in  which  noth- 
ing counts  but  skill,  zeal  and  activity.  An  artisan,  an  em- 
ploye, an  engineer  or  an  official  is  estimated  according 
to  what  he  can  do,  not  according  to  the  religion  he  happens 
to  profess.  The  upper  classes  may  still  have  more  refine- 
ment of  manner,  but  the  middle  classes  are  richly  endowed 
with  the  energy  which  the  world  holds  of  more  account 
than  manners,  because  it  is  of  more  service.  The  proletariat 
may  be  coarse  and  ignorant,  but  does  that  give  the  upper 
classes  any  right  to  look  down  upon  them?  If  the  masses 
did  not  work  hard  and  spend  their  wages  freely;  if  they 
were  content,  as  in  the  good  old  times,  to  earn  little  and 
live  poorly  provided  they  had  not  to  work  too  long,  would 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  gl9 

not  the  upper  classes  be  impoverished?  It  is  not  difficult 
for  the  rich  to  show  human  sympathy  for  the  masses  in  an, 
era  when  they  can  love  themselves  in  them.  Literature 
has  ceased  to  be  a  laborious  striving  after  a  high  and  envied 
degree  of  perfection  and  has  become  but  a  pastime  or  a 
weapon  in  the  latest  political  and  social  struggles  which 
rend  the  world  asunder:  provided  that  it  fulfils  these  two 
purposes,  one  school  or  one  style  is  the  same  as  another 
to  an  eclectic  and  changeable  public  which  has  lost  the 
very  idea  of  the  standards  of  perfection  at  which  literature 
was  wont  to  aim  in  times  past.  Monarchy  and  republic 
are  two  forms  of  government  based  upon  different  prin- 
ciples; but  who  has  either  time  or  leisure  to  fight  for  or 
against  either  of  these  principles  in  a  century  whose  one 
object  is  to  increase  the  wealth  of  the  world?  Republics, 
kingdoms  and  empires  alike  strive  to  enrich  their  respective 
peoples.  It  is  therefore  the  part  of  wisdom  to  make  the 
best  of  the  existing  regime.  The  last  republicans  will  re- 
sign themselves  to  living  in  a  monarchy  and  the  last 
monarchists  to  living  in  a  republic.  Hence  for  the  last 
century,  during  which  man  has  devoted  himself  with  grow- 
ing enthusiasm  to  the  conquest  of  the  earth  to  the  neglect 
of  every  other  enterprise  and  ambition,  every  nation  of 
Europe  and  America  has  become  a  more  or  less  homo- 
geneous mass,  in  which  the  struggles  between  opposing  re- 
ligious, moral  and  aesthetic  principles  characteristic  of  pre- 
ceding civilizations,  and  even  differences  of  religion,  class 
and  race  have  become  obliterated  and  the  spirit  of  isola- 
tion and  discord  has  gradually  grown  weaker.  This  ac- 
coimts  for  the  accusations  of  materialism  and  of  indiffer- 
ence to  everything  but  wealth  so  frequently  brought  against 
our  age  —  accusations  which  are,  however,  unmerited,  since 
there   are    two   mystic   ideas   which   pervade   the   homo- 


no  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

geneous  mass  of  modern  nations  and  insure  their  coherence: 
patriotism  and  progress, —  both  very  simple  ideas  or  at  all 
events  ideas  which  can  be  simplified  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
bring  them  within  the  comprehension  of  even  the  most 
ignorant.  Both  are  somewhat  vague,  by  which  I  mean 
that  they  are  more  apt  to  excite  than  to  restrain  the  dominant 
passions  of  the  epoch  and  more  especially  the  pride  which 
plays  such  a  prominent  part  among  the  sentiments  actuating 
our  century.  The  idea  of  progress  is,  as  I  have  already 
pointed  out,  both  contradictory  and  incoherent.  Both 
these  ideas  may  be  regarded  as  mystic  and  transcendant, 
because  they  force  man  to  sacrifice  his  egotism  —  today 
his  pleasure,  tomorrow  his  liberty,  his  most  cherished 
opinions,  his  possessions  and  sometimes  even  his  life  to 
something  which  transcends  them  all  —  something  invisible, 
something  surrounded  with  the  halo  of  a  sacred  mystery. 
Even  if  up  to  August  ist,  19 14,  man  toiled  from  morning 
to  night  to  increase  the  wealth  of  the  world,  did  he  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  his  toil?  Why  do  we  bear  so  many  burdens 
—  unceasing  hard  work,  military  service  for  a  term  of 
several  years,  the  perpetual  danger  of  war,  innumicrable 
taxes  and  countless  civic  duties  —  unless  it  be  to  further 
this  ill-defined  progress  whose  meaning  we  hardly  under- 
stand and  to  create  wealth  which  is  more  often  than  not  a 
burden  and  a  source  of  anxiety  ?  This  epoch,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  be  so  practical,  is  on  the  contrary  mystical  to  the 
last  degree,  and  that  nation  which  is  apparently  the  most 
practical  of  all,  the  American  people,  is  the  most  mystical, 
since  it  more  than  any  other  strives  to  create  wealth  of  which 
it  has  the  least  enjoyment! 

Do  not  let  us  be  unjust  to  our  epoch  if  we  would  under- 
stand the  European  War  and  find  an  explanation  of  its 
surprises.     The  sudden  concord  between  the  citizens  of  all 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  2^1 

the  nations  of  Europe,  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  of  which  they 
have  given  proof,  are  no  inexpHcable  miracle.  Europe 
desired  peace,  but  when  she  saw  the  German  menace,  she 
met  German  concord  with  her  own  concord;  she  was  able 
to  put  aside  in  a  few  days  all  religious  and  political  dissen- 
sions, because  they  had  for  long  been  growing  weaker  and 
because  the  spirit  of  patriotism  had  spread  in  even  the  least 
homogeneous  of  nations.  The  fact  that  Germany  had  given 
the  example  made  it  easier  for  the  various  governments  to 
obtain  the  ready  consent  of  the  whole  people  to  every  sacri- 
fice, and  they  were  thus  enabled,  with  the  help  of  the  power- 
ful means  at  the  disposal  of  the  modem  state,  to  take  posses- 
sion of  both  body  and  soul  of  their  respective  nations  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  make  any  subsequent  repentance  both 
useless  and  impossible.  We  see  every  nation  bearing  the 
unspeakable  sacrifices  of  war  w4th  the  utmost  patience, 
either  because  in  every  nation,  and  more  especially  in  those 
composed  of  a  single  race  speaking  the  same  language,  the 
spirit  of  patriotism  has  pervaded  even  the  most  ignorant 
classes;  or  because  they  have  pledged  themselves  to  their 
Allies  to  fight  to  the  bitter  end,  so  that  none  can  now  draw 
back;  the  aggressors  as  a  matter  of  honour  and  for  fear 
of  the  reprisals  they  so  well  deserve  and  the  victims  from 
the  necessity  of  defending  themselves  and  the  thirst  for 
vengeance. 

We  thus  find  ourselves  brought  to  the  happiest  of  con- 
clusions. We  have  really  been  born  in  the  Golden  Age 
of  legend  and  poetry!  The  doctrine  of  progress  cannot 
deceive  us,  even  if  we  cannot  define  it  accurately!  The 
world  is  really  on  the  path  of  progress,  since  we  possess 
all  this  world's  goods  —  wealth,  power,  learning,  concord 
and  the  spirit  of  sacrifice;  since  we  are  capable  of  living 
in  peace  and  yet  know  how  to  make  war.     The  century 


222       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

which    we    reproached    with    materiahsm,    concealed    un- 
suspected treasures  of  heroism. 


II 

THE   TWO   SIDES   OF   PROGRESS 

This  conclusion  is,  however,  too  optimistic  and  too  hasty. 
The  doctrine  of  progress  in  which  we  have  hitherto  beHeved 
was  ambiguous  if  not  actually  false,  and  its  ambiguity  has 
involved  us  in  the  present  crisis.  When  I  was  travelling 
in  America  and  comparing  that  continent  with  the  classical 
world  which  had  for  so  m^any  years  been  my  spiritual  home ; 
when  I  was  subjecting  the  innumerable  contradictions  in- 
herent in  our  idea  of  progress  to  the  searchlight  of  analysis, 
and  gazing  at  the  world  half  sadly  as  it  struggled  and  strove 
for  something  newer  and  better  without  really  knowing 
what,  I  had  never  for  a  moment  imagined  that  within  a 
few  short  years  one  of  these  contradictions  would  bring 
about  such  a  catastrophe.  The  student  who  would  trace 
the  causes  of  the  European  War  back  to  their  remotest 
origin,  passing  in  review  one  by  one  the  intrigues  of  diplo- 
matists, the  sinister  plans  of  General  Staffs,  the  ambitions  of 
governments,  the  jealousies  of  nations,  the  agitations  of  the 
press,  the  random  utterances  of  paid  philosophers,  the 
rivalries  of  industry  and  commerce,  the  turmoils  of  decadent 
empires,  the  sufferings  of  oppressed  peoples,  the  pride, 
ambition  and  dreams  of  the  German  nation  and  its  tendency 
to  overshoot  the  mark,  will  find  himself  led  step  by  step 
to  one  of  the  numerous  contradictions  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  have  lived  for  the  last  century  —  the  great  contradiction 
from  which  we  have  never  succeeded  in  liberating  our- 
selves —  the  mania  for  increasing  the  power  of  man  with- 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  223 

out  troubling  to  distinguish  between  the  creative  and  the 
destructive  power.  When  science  made  some  new  dis- 
covery, when  industry  constructed  some  more  rapid  and 
powerful  machine,  when  we  counted  our  riches  and  found 
that  they  had  increased,  we  were  convinced  that  the  world 
was  progressing.  Had  our  century  not  undertaken  to  con- 
quer the  whole  earth  with  the  help  of  fire  and  science? 
Was  not  every  step  which  brought  us  nearer  this  goal  to  be 
regarded  as  progress?  Europe  and  America  had  therefore 
advanced  by  abandoning  the  old  time  coaches  for  trains 
and  sailing  boats  for  steamers ;  by  inventing  the  telegraph, 
the  telephone,  the  motorcar,  the  aeroplane  and  the  dirigible ; 
by  acquiring  the  knowledge  and  the  means  enabling  it  to 
pierce  the  Isthmus  of  Panama;  by  constructing  reaping, 
threshing,  measuring,  ploughing  and  sewing  machines  and 
other  machines  for  making  shoes,  driving  in  nails,  and  per- 
forming at  lightning  speed  many  other  operations  for  which 
for  centuries  man  had  no  other  apparatus  than  his  hand. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Our  era,  consistently  with  its  own  defini- 
tion of  progress,  extolled  activity,  discipline,  obedience, 
courage,  energy,  initiative,  ambition  and  self-confidence  as 
the  noblest  of  virtues;  its  heroes  wxre  self-made  men, 
fortunate  or  unfortunate  inventors,  pioneers  of  every  sort 
of  aspiration,  leaders  of  revolutionary  movements  in  art, 
industry,  religion,  banking,  fashion  and  politics.  Our  epoch, 
however,  has  not  confined  itself  to  constructing  railways, 
ships,  ploughs  and  threshing  machines;  it  has  not  merely 
discovered  marvellous  remedies,  and  how  to  make  electricity 
produce  a  brilliant  light,  and  learned  to  talk  and  write  across 
space ;  it  has  also  manufactured  rifles,  guns,  ironclads,  and 
explosives  a  hundred  times  more  powerful  and  more  deadly 
than  those  known  to  our  fathers  and  grandfathers.  It 
enlarged  and  beautified  schools,  hospitals  and  libraries ;  but 


flU  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

with  what  appalling  weapons  it  has  furnished  the  greatest 
armies  the  world  has  ever  seen !  Are  we  to  be  equally  proud 
of  both  these  types  of  progress?  It  is  a  difficult  question 
to  answer.  If  we  answer  it  in  the  affirmative,  we  were 
virtually  adopting  Hegelianism,  venerating  destruction  as 
much  as  creation  and  worshipping  God  and  the  devil  on  the 
same  altar  —  a  view  revolting  to  an  epoch  which  believed 
in  the  goodness  of  human  nature  and  strove  so  hard  to  in- 
crease the  wealth  of  the  world.  If,  however,  we  answer 
it  in  the  negative,  universal  disarmament,  the  dethronement 
of  the  monarchies  at  the  head  of  the  present  armies,  the 
reconstruction  of  the  map  of  Europe  and  a  far-reaching 
change  in  the  spirit  of  the  modern  state  should  necessarily 
have  followed.  For  such  sweeping  changes  Europe  had  not 
the  courage.  She  took  refuge  in  ambiguity  and  a  definition 
of  progress  sufficiently  vague  to  cover  both  peace  and  war, 
justice  and  violence,  life  and  death,  steam  ploughs  and 
Lewis  guns,  Pasteur  serum  and  melinite.  She  shrank  from 
saying  definitely  whether  the  same  meed  of  admiration  was 
to  be  accorded  to  audacity,  courage,  self-sacrifice,  initiative 
and  perseverance  when  displayed  in  wars  of  aggression  as 
when  employed  in  the  struggle  against  nature.  She  has 
always  halted  between  two  opinions.  The  century  de- 
manded peace,  but  its  teaching  was  received  with  such  ironic 
smiles  by  so  many  soldiers,  philosophers  and  politicians  that 
it  lost  heart,  and  the  century  which  had  dared  so  much  did 
not  venture  even  to  repeat  what  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  boldly 
affirmed  amid  the  barbarism  of  the  Middle  Ages  —  that 
war  is  only  justifiable  when  waged  in  a  good  cause  and 
without  evil  intention. 

Thus  the  day  dawned  when  Germany  set  Europe  ablaze. 
She  dared  this  crime  just  because  she  had  brought  to  greater 
perfection  than  any  other  nation  this  very  conception  of 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  S25 

progress  which  reconciles  the  idea  of  destruction  with  that 
of  creation  by  affirming  boldly  that  a  people  must  strive 
to  be  great  in  peace  and  war  alike,  and  that  it  is  no  less 
meritorious  and  glorious  for  it  to  force  other  nations  to  sub- 
mit to  its  will  than  for  it  to  conquer  nature  and  wrest  her 
secrets  from  her.  The  victories  of  1866  and  1870,  the 
development  of  her  industries,  the  increase  of  both  her 
population  and  her  wealth,  the  lack  of  feeling  for  humanity 
and  of  sense  of  proportion  characteristic  of  the  German 
mentality,  the  wave  of  overweening  pride,  ambition  and 
cupidity  which  has  swept  over  Germany  during  the  last  few 
years  explain  how  she  has  been  able  to  reconcile  two  such 
contradictory  principles  in  her  hybrid  definition  of 
progress ;  how  she  could  manufacture  instruments  of  life  and 
death  without  apparently  any  feeling  of  incongruity,  build 
factories  and  barracks,  merchant  ships  and  ironclads;  how 
she  could  at  one  and  the  same  time  be  a  vast  factory  and 
a  vast  entrenched  camp,  by  regarding  progress  as  a  two- 
faced  deity,  inciting  men  to  become  at  once  wealthier  and 
more  redoubtable,  more  learned  and  more  cruel,  more  in- 
dustrious and  more  violent.  Then,  when  she  had  reached 
the  very  zenith  of  prosperity  and  power,  she  thought  she 
had  also  reached  the  apex  of  strength  and  challenged  three 
great  nations  to  a  deadly  combat,  and  the  great  butchery 
began  —  that  butchery  whose  end  cannot  be  foreseen,  since 
this  war  differs  from  all  previous  struggles  in  that  it  knows 
no  limits  whether  of  space,  time  or  form. 

Ill 

A   RUTHLESS    WAR 

In  all  preceding  wars,  even  in  that  of  1870,  only  part 
of  the  nation  was  engaged  —  that  young,  vigorous  sec- 


226       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

tion  which  was  already  trained  in  the  use  of  arms.  The 
forces  on  which  each  nation  could  count  were  limited  and 
wars  were  consequently  short,  violent  and  decisive.  In  the 
present  war  several  of  the  great  belligerent  nations  have 
ceased  to  take  into  account  either  age,  weakness,  lack  of 
training  or  family  circumstances:  every  man  capable  of 
learning  in  a  few  weeks  how  to  handle  a  gun  is  pressed 
into  the  service.  It  may  indeed  truthfully  be  said  that  even 
women  and  old  men  have  been  mobilized,  since  those  who 
are  not  actually  fighting  are  taking  the  place  of  those  on 
active  service  in  all  kinds  of  civil  employment,  caring  for 
the  wounded  and  helping  families  whose  heads  are  away. 
One  almost  wonders  whether  the  war  will  not  be  brought 
to  an  end  by  beardless  lads  and  white-haired  men.  The 
participation  of  all  Europe  in  the  wars  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution and  the  Empire  had  appeared  something  at  once 
tremendous  and  unheard  of:  this  time  Europe,  the  whole 
of  North  America  and  many  of  the  South  American  States, 
British  India,  China,  Japan,  Siam,  a  large  part  of  Africa 
and  all  the  British  overseas  dominions  are  involved  — 
practically  the  whole  civilized  world.  When  the  war  broke 
out,  we  all  thought  it  could  not  possibly  last  more  than  a 
few  months;  forty  months  have  elapsed  and,  unless  some 
miracle  happens,  there  seems  nothing  to  prevent  its  dragging 
on  for  many  another  weary  month.  Although  it  is  certain 
that  the  Great  War  must  come  to  an  end  some  day,  like 
everything  else  in  the  world,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the 
end  may  be  sudden,  we  can  as  yet  catch  no  glimpse  of  the 
bound  set  to  this  fresh  instance  of  human  folly;  nor  do 
we  see  any  signs  of  a  limit  to  the  ruthlessness  of  those 
of  the  belligerents  who  apparently  propose  to  wage  warfare 
with  no  regard  to  the  dictates  of  laws,  conventions  or  prin- 
ciples of  compassion  and  humanity. 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  227 

Even  legend   has   no   records   of   such  a  struggle  —  a 
struggle   involving   such  hosts   of   combatants,   such  pro- 
longed battles,  such  wholesale  destruction  of  life  and  prop- 
erty, such  arousing  of  the  fiercest  passions  of  mankind. 
Modern   civilization    is   more   powerful    than   any   of    its 
predecessors,  but  it  will  brook  neither  curb  nor  limit,  and  is 
consequently  lacking  in  discernment.     It  creates  and   de- 
stroys, does  good  and  evil  according  to  the  dictates  of  self- 
interest  and  the  circumstances  or  passions  of  the  moment, 
and  it  does  both  in  accordance  with  its  character,  that  is  to 
say,  on  a  large  scale.     For  three  generations  it  busied  it- 
self colonizing  new  countries,  opening  up  new  routes,  in- 
creasing riches,  learning  and  machinery,  teaching  and  dis- 
ciplining the  masses,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  it  ac- 
complished marvels.     When,  however,  in  a  moment  of  mad- 
ness it  turned  its  energies  to  destruction,  it  achieved  its 
object  to  an  equally  great  degree.     Are  not  the  very  virtues 
—  concord,  patriotism,  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  —  evoked 
by  the  war  also  the  very  reason  why  this  fierce  struggle 
has  lasted  so  long?     Germany,  France,  Belgium,   Serbia, 
Russia,  Austria  and  the  rest  have  been  fighting  now  for 
years;  now  the  one,  now  the  other  side  gaining  the  upper 
hand;  countless  thousands  have  fallen  and  yet  the  war  is 
still  going  on.     Why?     Because  the  conflict  has  ceased  to 
be  merely  between  armies  and  states  and  is  being  waged 
by  whole  peoples,  each  and  all  of  them  equally  determined 
to  conquer  at  any  cost,  because  they  are  one  and  all  animated 
by  that  mystic  spirit  of  patriotism  which  adds  fresh  fuel 
to  the  fires  of  pride  and  love  of  domination  on  the  one  side 
and   inspires   their   opponents   with   the   determination   to 
avenge  the  wrong  inflicted  upon  them  by  their  aggressors. 
This  too  explains  why  the  defeats  and  victories  of  this  war 
are  never  decisive.     Battles  which  do  not  end  in  the  an- 


228       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

nihilation  of  the  forces  of  one  or  other  side  —  and  such 
decisive  battles  are  rare  —  have  no  effect  beyond  the  moral 
impression  they  make :  hence  a  people  may  be  defeated  re- 
peatedly without  being  conquered  provided  it  does  not  lose 
heart  and  hope.  The  wars  waged  by  the  ancient  Romans 
afford  endless  proofs  of  the  truth  of  this  assertion,  for  there 
has  never  been  a  nation  which  was  often  more  defeated  or 
won  more  wars.  Were  w^e  then  self-deceived  when  we 
flattered  ourselves  that  our  civilization  had  attained  a  higher 
degree  of  perfection  than  any  of  its  predecessors?  It 
would  almost  appear  so.  There  are  compensating  circum- 
stances in  everything.  The  men  of  the  Middle  Ages  were 
undoubtedly  poorer,  coarser  and  more  ignorant  than  our- 
selves ;  they  had  no  railways,  no  aeroplanes,  no  submarines ; 
on  the  other  hand  they  never  so  much  as  dreamed  of  the 
horrors  witnessed  almost  as  a  matter  of  course  by  Europe 
today :  cities  burned  down,  millions  of  men  killed,  mutilated, 
burned  alive,  blow^n  up  by  appalling  explosions,  great  vessels 
sinking  in  a  few  minutes  with  their  living  freight.  The 
Europe  of  1317  was  a  paradise  compared  to  the  Europe  of 
1917:  and  this  is  the  result  of  six  centuries  of  progress  — 
progress  which  surely  gives  the  Chinese,  Indians  and  other 
peoples  to  whom  we  are  wont  to  consider  ourselves  so 
superior,  every  right  to  smile  ironically  —  progress  which 
fills  the  soul  of  many  a  European  with  deep  distrust.  Is 
this  progress  ?  we  may  well  ask.  We  can  no  longer  let  the 
question  pass  in  silence,  as  we  have  done  hitherto,  claiming 
that  the  answer  is  to  be  found  in  our  deeds  rather  than  in 
our  words ;  for  our  desire  to  advance  without  wasting  time 
defining  progress  and  taking  for  granted  that  everything 
which  served  our  purpose  or  ministered  to  our  pleasure 
for  the  time  being  must  necessarily  be  progress,  has  brought 
us  to  the  point  of  destroying  in  a  few  months  the  treasures 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  229 

which  it  has  taken  us  years  to  accummulate  and  of  being 
forced  to  look  on  helplessly  at  the  wholesale  massacre  of 
our  young  men.  And  this  in  an  age  which  has  even  set  up 
societies  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals!  The 
masses  have  every  right  to  ask  those  who  in  the  name  of 
progress  led  them  to  this  fiery  ordeal  whether  they  are  not 
themselves  deluded.  The  Chinese  and  Indians  may  well  ask 
if  the  European  War  is  to  be  regarded  as  another  proof 
of  that  civilization  which  we  are  so  anxious  they  should 
adopt.  How  many  of  us  can  be  certain  that  the  horrified 
world  will  not  answer  by  rejecting  as  false  that  progress 
of  which  Europe  was  so  proud? 


IV 

NEW   STRENGTH    AND  ANCIENT    WISDOM 

And  yet  it  is  not  really  so.  The  progress  in  which  we 
have  perhaps  believed  somewhat  too  readily  is  not  altogether 
a  delusion ;  it  is  rather  one  of  the  laws  of  life  which  at  times 
seems  to  be  deceptive,  simply  because  it  is  obscure  and  we 
do  not  as  yet  understand  it,  although  we  are  not  insensible 
to  its  influence. 

It  is  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  foretell  the  future, 
but  we  may  none  the  less  venture  to  assume  that  history 
will  look  upon  the  European  War  as  the  crisis  of  a  civiliza- 
tion which  prided  itself  on  having  enabled  human  energy 
to  throw  off  the  chains  and  shackles  which  had  hampered 
it  in  the  civilizations  of  the  past,  but  proved  powerless  to 
hold  it  in  check  when  it  fell  a  prey  to  the  lust  of  destruction : 
the  crisis  of  a  civilization  which,  after  exhausting  three 
generations  in  laborious  creative  work,  is  now  destroying 
the  fourth  with  all  its  heaped  up  wealth  for  the  selfsame 


230       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

reason  —  because  it  knows  no  bounds  either  for  good  or 
evil.  The  first  great  crisis  of  that  society  to  which  Social- 
ists apply  the  epithet  capitalist  (from  the  order  of  things 
established  by  the  nineteenth  century  in  both  Europe  and 
America)  is  the  European  War:  a  crisis  very  different  from 
that  predicted  by  Socialists  and  no  less  so  from  the  last 
great  historical  crisis  —  the  French  Revolution.  Then,  an 
age  thirsting  for  liberty,  wealth,  power  and  learning  arose 
and  overthrew  all  the  ancient  barriers  which  stood  in  the 
way  of  the  realization  of  its  aspirations;  today  we  see 
tottering  to  its  fall,  wounded  to  death,  an  age,  which  after 
winning  for  itself  liberty,  power,  science  and  all  the  treasures 
earth  has  to  offer,  has  fallen  victim  to  a  mania  which 
prompts  it  to  destroy  not  only  itself  but  all  the  fruit  of  its 
labours  as  well. 

One  of  two  things  must  happen.  Either  it  will  rise  again, 
its  wounds  closed,  to  resume  as  soon  as  it  has  sufficiently 
recovered  its  strength,  its  course  towards  its  old  goal  — 
that  goal  which  recedes  as  fast  as  man  marches  towards  it 
—  in  which  case  the  European  War  will  have  been  but  a 
parenthesis  in  the  history  of  the  twentieth  century,  a  terrible 
but  transitory  incident  like  an  earthquake  or  a  flood  —  a  use- 
less warning  to  man  —  the  first  rehearsal  as  it  were,  of  a 
still  more  appalling  catastrophe  to  take  place  in  fifty  or  a 
hundred  years;  or  else  this  war  will  cure  the  world  once 
for  all  of  the  mania  which  had  taken  possession  of  it,  forc- 
ing it  to  ask  itself  what  use  it  has  made  in  the  past  and  what 
use  it  should  make  in  the  future  of  its  unbounded  power  — 
a  question  which  will  mark  the  dawn  of  real  progress.  I  see 
no  way  out  of  the  apparently  insoluble  difficulties  with 
which  thought  and  action  are  confronted  when  thought 
would  fain  define  progress,  and  action  is  equally  anxious 
to  put  it  into  practice,  save  the  admission  that  each  epoch  ac- 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  231 

complishes  but  a  portion  of  the  never  ending  and  multifari- 
ous task  set  humanity  as  a  whole.  Some  civilizations  have 
produced  works  of  art  and  systems  of  philosophy;  others 
political  institutions ;  others  have  given  birth  to  religions  and 
rituals;  others  to  fresh  developments  of  industry  and  com- 
merce and  others  again  to  weapons  and  the  tactics  of  war. 
All  these  incomplete  labours  of  successive  generations  are 
contributions  towards  a  whole,  and  true  progress  lies  in  the 
slow  but  constant  additions  made  to  their  number  —  the 
only  way  in  which  we  can  hope  to  reconcile  quality  and 
quantity  in  our  definition  of  progress,  for  each  successive 
generation  possesses  a  larger  number  of  qualitative  prin- 
ciples ;  or,  in  other  words,  a  larger  number  of  aesthetic,  politi- 
cal, religious  and  moral  principles,  allowing  of  a  greater 
wealth  of  combinations  and  of  a  fuller  and  more  original 
life. 

Let  us  take  an  example.  If  we  compare  ourselves  with 
the  ancient  Greeks  or  Romans  or  with  the  peoples  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  we  shall  undoubtedly  find  that  we  are  superior 
to  them  in  some  respects,  though  inferior  in  others.  The 
Greeks  were  superior  to  us  in  art  and  literature ;  the  Romans 
in  law;  the  Middle  Ages  in  certain  branches  of  art,  such 
as  architecture.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  much  wealthier, 
much  more  learned  and  much  more  powerful  than  the 
Greeks,  the  Romans,  or  the  peoples  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
When  confronted  with  these  differences  how  are  we  then  to 
decide  whether  the  world  has  made  progress  in  the  centuries 
which  have  passed  since  the  days  of  the  ancient  Greeks?  If 
we  are  to  answer  such  a  question,  we  much  first  decide 
whether  it  is  better  to  be  a  scholar  or  an  artist,  to  construct 
steam  engines  or  build  beautiful  cathedrals,  to  explore  Africa 
or  be  the  creator  of  "  Antigone."  It  is,  however,  obvious 
that  every  man  and  every  age  believe  the  work  accomplished 


EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

by  himself  and  his  age  to  be  the  most  useful  and  the  noblest 
of  all,  and  that  it  is  impossible  to  prove  that  riches  are  of 
greater  or  less  value  than  beauty,  or  beauty  of  greater  or 
less  value  than  science.  All  the  lines  of  argument  by  which 
one  or  other  of  these  points  is  supposed  to  have  been  proved 
take  for  granted  a  definition  of  progress  in  which  the  thesis 
to  be  proved  is  already  tacitly  admitted;  they  therefore 
merely  amount  to  sophisms  which  only  interest  and  passion 
could  seriously  look  upon  as  arguments  at  all.  We  may, 
however,  fairly  affirm  that  the  world  has  progressed  when 
we  compare  our  epoch  as  a  whole  with  ancient  Greece,  for 
we  enjoy  Greek  art  and  literature;  we  are  acquainted  with 
her  philosophy;  we  have  adopted  some  of  her  views  and 
political  principles,  while  we  are  acquainted  with  other  arts 
unknown  to  the  Greeks,  mediaeval  architecture,  and  Japa- 
nese sculpture,  amongst  others ;  we  are  acquainted  with  other 
systems  of  philosophy;  we  practise  the  virtues  taught  by 
Christianity,  such  as  love  of  our  neighbour,  charity  and 
purity;  we  add  to  their  political  principles  those  to  which 
the  French  Revolution  gave  birth;  we  possess  far  wider 
geographical  and  scientific  knowledge;  we  travel  by  rail- 
way, we  speak  across  space  and  have  learned  to  fly. 

If  this  is  what  we  understand  by  progress,  a  little  light 
is  shed  on  the  moral  problems  raised  by  the  European  War. 
The  increase  of  wealth,  learning  and  power  only  constitutes 
progress  if  we  make  of  this  wealth,  learning  and  power  a 
wiser,  nobler  and  finer  use.  We  shall,  however,  never  learn 
to  do  so  of  ourselves  and  starting,  as  it  were,  from  nothing 
if  we  make  no  attempt  to  blend  the  ideas,  sentiments  and 
principles  transmitted  to  us  by  past  generations  with  those 
which  we  ourselves  have  created.  The  ancient  civilizations 
knew  how  to  hold  man  in  check  and  thus  prevent  him  from, 
committing  great  and  dangerous  acts  of  folly,  but  at  the 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  233 

same  time  they  limited  his  power  of  initiation  and  action. 
Modern  civihzation  exahed  human  energy  by  freeing  it 
from  every  fetter,  and  has  enabled  it  to  accomplish  wonders, 
but  it  has  at  the  same  time  removed  the  bonds  which  re- 
strained it  from  committing  acts  of  supreme  folly.  Our 
civilization  will  reach  the  zenith  of  glory  and  perfection 
when,  by  tempering  the  new  powers  it  has  created  with  the 
ancient  wisdom  it  has  forgotten,  it  succeeds  in  subduing 
the  disorderly  energies  of  men  to  the  moderating  influence 
of  aesthetic,  moral,  religious  and  philosophical  rules  and  prin- 
ciples w^iich  shall  set  a  limit  to  them  —  a  limit  as  wide 
as  you  will,  but  none  the  less  clear  and  w^ell  defined.  His- 
torians and  philosophers  would  accomplish  ends  of  far 
greater  value  if  they  would  endeavour  to  prepare  the  mind 
of  man  for  this  fusion  of  two  great  civilizations  w^hich  may 
give  birth  to  a  third  civilization  of  a  higher  type  than  either, 
instead  of  w^asting  their  time  on  discussions  as  to  w^hether 
Romulus  ever  lived  or  not,  or  toying  with  eighteenth  cen- 
tury theories  of  knowledge. 

When  exhausted  Europe  has  laid  down  her  arms  and 
is  forced  to  ask  herself  what  she  ought  to  do  in  order  to 
provide  for  the  future,  will  she  not  find  herself  face  to  face 
wath  the  eternal  question  which  confronts  man  at  the  end 
of  every  path  which  he  takes  in  search  of  happiness  —  the 
question  of  limits?  If  after  the  European  War  the  differ- 
ent Powers  begin  once  more  to  increase  their  armies  and 
fleets  just  as  they  did  from  1870  to  1914,  we  shall  sooner 
or  later  find  ourselves  back  at  the  same  point.  Europe, 
drained  as  she  has  been  of  her  life  blood,  can  only  hope  to 
recover  her  strength  if  the  belligerent  Powers  come  to  a 
serious  understanding  as  to  the  limitation  of  armaments  — 
a  condition  easy  to  propose,  but  extremely  difficult  to  carry 
into  effect,  since  there  is  nothing  from  which  the  modern 


234.  EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

world  shrinks  so  much  as  the  suggestion  of  any  sort  of 
limitation  —  no  matter  what  the  motive.  I  have  already 
remarked  that  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  asserts  and  proves  war 
to  be  a  sin  in  itself,  that  is  to  say,  an  evil,  but  adds  that 
it  may  become  permissible  on  three  conditions :  i.  e.,  that 
it  be  waged  by  lawful  authority  in  a  just  cause  and  without 
evil  intention.  The  subtle  teacher  of  the  Middle  Ages  had 
foreseen  wars  waged  in  a  just  cause  but  with  evil  intention. 
Who  can  fail  to  see  that  this  view  of  war  is  the  one  ap- 
pealing most  strongly  to  all  those  who  have  not  interested 
motives  for  desiring  the  continuance  of  the  war  or  are  not 
totally  devoid  of  that  sense  of  humanity  which  German 
philosophy  has  done  so  much  to  blunt  even  in  ourselves? 
Who  can  fail  to  see  that  to  ensure  Europe  a  true  and  last- 
ing peace  all  that  is  necessary  is  that  these  principles  should 
be  put  into  practice  ?  Yet  in  the  nineteenth  century  you  will 
find  few  thinkers  who  ventured  to  uphold  such  teaching 
boldly  without  being  somewhat  ashamed  of  what  was  re- 
garded as  an  old  woman's  idea!  How  is  this  strange  dis- 
crepancy to  be  explained?  Only  by  the  fact  that  almost 
all  modern  systems  of  philosophy  have  started  from  them- 
selves and  have  refused  to  submit  their  investigations  to  any 
of  the  limits  respected  more  or  less  voluntarily  by  the  sys- 
tems of  antiquity,  or  even  to  those  imposed  by  common 
sense  or  the  sense  of  humanity,  which  shrink  from  every 
doctrine  and  every  principle  which  is  opposed  to  the  most  ob- 
vious requirements  of  human  nature.  These  various  sys- 
tems of  philosophy,  thus  emancipated  from  the  bands  of 
discipline  and  surrounded  by  so  many  different  passions  and 
interests,  held  the  sound  common  sense  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas  in  utter  contempt  and,  reversing  each  other's  argu- 
ments, proved  war  to  be  either  divine  or  diabolical,  those 
taking  the  former  view  maintaining  that  to  carry  off  the 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  235 

victory  in  war  is  to  give  evidence  of  the  highest  degree 
of  perfection;  while  their  opponents  asserted  with  equal 
conviction  that  war  was  utterly  degrading  and  should  never 
be  resorted  to  by  civilized  peoples  even  to  repel  aggression ! 
If  it  was  diffcult  to  induce  our  age  to  accept  reasonable 
theories  as  to  war  and  its  limits,  is  it  likely  to  be  easy  to 
induce  it  to  act  reasonably?  Yet  who  can  doubt  that 
modern  civilization  will  end  by  destroying  itself  with  its 
own  hands  if  it  does  not  learn  to  use  its  terrible  powers 
with  more  judgment?  Our  descendants  will  perhaps  say 
that  our  century  played  with  machine-  and  quick-firing  guns, 
shells  and  millions  of  soldiers  like  a  child  with  a  box  of 
matches  without  realizing  how  terrible  its  toys  would  be 
when  put  to  real  use:  the  century  must  grow  up  and  learn 
to  handle  such  engines  of  warfare  with  the  prudence  de- 
manded by  their  dangerous  character.  We  must  pray  the 
shades  of  our  fathers  to  let  their  wisdom,  which  we  have 
too  long  neglected,  help  Europe  out  of  the  difficult  pass  to 
which  her  pride  and  foolhardiness  have  brought  her.  We 
must  above  all  invoke  the  shades  of  those  great  writers  of 
the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries  who  taught  man 
that  there  might  and  should  be  such  a  thing  as  national 
as  well  as  individual  justice  —  a  sentiment  which,  like  so 
many  of  those  newer  conceptions  which  dignify  our  age 
—  had  its  birth  in  eighteenth  century  France.  It  found  a 
refuge  in  hearts  and  books  and  thus  survived  the  devastating 
wars  of  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Gradually,  during  the  long  period 
of  hopes  and  regrets  which  followed  the  fall  of  the  first 
Empire,  it  ventured  out  of  its  hiding  places  and  spread 
secretly  over  Europe  under  the  suspicious  eyes  of  the  police, 
winning  thousands  of  hearts  and  intellects,  until  the  memor- 
able year  1848,  when  it  seemed  to  establish  its  sway  over 


236       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

all  Europe  in  a  few  brief  weeks  and  to  become  the  ruler 
of  a  new  and  happier  world.  Disillusion  swiftly  followed, 
however !  How  distant  was  its  triumph  still !  The  politi- 
cal and  economic  upheavals  of  the  second  half  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  era  of  steel  and  steam,  the  blatant 
triumph  of  quantity,  the  clash  of  classes  and  interests,  the 
advent  of  the  middle  classes,  were  all  still  to  come.  This 
great  conception  was  no  longer  the  object  of  police  perse- 
cution, but  rather  that  of  ridicule  and  contempt.  The  at- 
tempt was  made  to  isolate  it  by  closing  every  door  to  it; 
it  was  banished  from  school  and  parliament  alike.  In  every 
country  more  or  less  successful  efforts  were  made  to  provoke 
admiration  of  Bismarck  in  the  hope  that  the  mere  sight 
of  his  bull-dog  countenance  w^ould  chill  the  souls  in  whom 
the  new  ideas  had  lighted  the  fire  of  enthusiasm.  The  ef- 
forts to  win  the  minds  of  men  made  by  the  new  conception 
were  met  by  governments  and  political  parties  with  an  ever 
increasing  production  of  new  weapons,  with  the  appoint- 
ment of  philosophers  and  philosophasters  to  burnish  up  in 
press  and  university  alike  old  theories,  such  as  Hegelianism, 
which  might  be  turned  to  account  as  antidotes.  It  was  ac- 
cused of  being  half  Catholic,  half  Protestant;  Catholic,  be- 
cause it  aspired  to  be  transcendent  and  eternal ;  Protestant, 
because  it  claimed  to  be  the  offspring  of  reason:  as  if  a  con- 
ception could  forfeit  the  right  to  act  as  a  guide  to  truth  or  be- 
come an  imposture  merely  because  it  is  able  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  itself  and  justify  its  laws.  In  spite  of  all  these 
criticisms,  however,  the  conception  did  not  perish,  simply  be- 
cause it  was  a  true  conception  springing  from  the  very  depths 
of  the  soul  of  man,  and  it  may  yet  save  Europe  from  ruin, 
because  it  knows  how  to  set  limits  to  the  pride,  the  ambition 
and  the  passion  for  power  of  the  different  peoples.  We 
must  therefore  bring  about  a  revival  of  this  principle  in  the 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  237 

soul  of  man  and  call  in  the  aid  of  reason  in  order  to  give 
definite  form  to  its  precepts;  we  must  let  it  exercise 
dominion  in  Europe  over  the  masses  who  are  looking  on  in 
horror  at  the  present  catastrophe  —  those  masses  whom  the 
age  of  quality  has  made  arbiters  of  almost  everything  and 
more  especially  of  peace  and  war. 

V 

BACCHUS    IN    BONDS 

It  is  given  to  none  of  us  to  be  able  to  foretell  what  the 
future  holds  in  store.  We  may,  however,  before  con- 
cluding these  pages,  turn  our  attention  for  a  moment  to  an 
indication  which  time  has  already  made  plain  —  a  sign  per- 
haps slight  in  itself  but  which  may  encourage  us  to  hope 
that  the  conscience  of  Europe  is  really  progressing,  not 
with  halting  and  uncertain  steps  as  in  so  many  other  direc- 
tions on  which  we  none  the  less  prided  ourselves  —  but 
making  real  advances,  thanks  to  the  revival  of  old  principles, 
in  the  midst  of  the  powerful  but  outrageous  disorder  of  the 
modern  world. 

The  ancients  numbered  wine  among  the  gods,  because 
they  regarded  as  divine  a  drink  which,  taken  in  moderation, 
soothed  pain,  stimulated  the  imagination,  promoted  cheer- 
fulness and  stirred  the  mind;  but  during  the  last  century 
the  ancient  deity  has  appeared  upon  earth  in  so  many  and 
different  forms  as  to  forfeit  his  status  as  god  and  sink  to 
that  of  a  demon,  begetting  madness,  crime,  sterility,  pov- 
erty and  death  instead  of  joy  and  gladness,  as  of  old. 
We  all  know  the  disastrous  results  all  over  the  world  of 
this  disease,  to  which  the  medical  profession  has  given 
the  name  alcoholism,  but  in  Russia  and  France  two  of 


238       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR        / 

its  worst  forms  —  vodka  and  absinthe  —  had  wrought  more 
havoc  than  anywhere  else.  It  is  therefore  not  surprising 
that  in  these  countries  special  efforts  should  have  been  made 
to  stay  the  plague.  Statesmen,  scientists,  philanthropists, 
priests,  moralists,  industrial  magnates,  schoolmasters  and 
estimable  women  all  had  some  panacea  to  offer.  Countless 
commissions  were  appointed,  countless  societies  founded, 
countless  laws  promulgated  during  the  last  twenty  five 
years  to  cope  with  the  evil  and  convert  men  to  sobriety, 
while  of  the  making  of  books  with  the  same  object  there 
was  no  end.  But  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  these  many 
physicians,  the  evil  steadily  increased  in  every  country  and 
more  especially  in  Russia  and  France.  The  remedy  was 
apparently  not  to  be  found.  Church  and  school  were  alike 
impotent.  The  workman  listened  to  the  good  advice  given 
him  and  then  betook  himself  to  the  nearest  public-house 
for  another  glass.  Many  of  the  would-be  physicians  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  man  is  naturally  vicious  and  that  it 
is  useless  to  try  to  prevent  him  from  going  to  perdition 
in  the  quest  of  pleasure.  Some  even  sought  excuses  for 
the  vice.  Was  it  really  so  fatal  as  was  supposed?  Was 
there  anything  else  which  could  do  as  much  to  lighten  the 
burden  of  the  toiler  in  modern  industry?  Every  man 
tries  at  times  to  escape  as  best  he  can  in  imagination  from 
the  fetters  which  hold  him  captive  in  the  world  into  the 
'unbounded  freedom  of  infinity,  and  the  glass  of  wine  or 
spirits  may  serve  as  the  gateway  into  the  infinite  for  the 
workman  who  knows  no  other  means  of  escape. 

Accordingly  Europe  indulged  freely  in  strong  drink, 
although  many  thoughtful  people  who  did  not  share  the 
illusions  of  the  optimist  felt  their  hearts  sink  as  they  watched 
noble  peoples  thus  degrading  themselves.  And  there  seemed 
no  hope  of  finding  a  remedy.     Then  the  European  War 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  239 

broke  out  and  the  authorities,  realizing  that  if  drunkenness 
be  a  dangerous  vice  in  time  of  peace,  it  is  far  more  so  in 
time  of  war,  when  both  those  who  fight  and  those  who 
remain  at  home  must  make  the  best  possible  use  of  their 
mental  powers  for  the  common  weal,  decided  on  a  drastic 
measure  —  a  remedy  so  heroic  that  no  one  had  ventured 
to  suggest  it  seriously  before  —  the  prohibition  of  the  man- 
ufacture and  consumption  of  the  most  harmful  beverages. 
The  egg  of  Columbus  with  a  vengeance!  When  the  work- 
man and  the  peasant  can  no  longer  turn  into  the  nearest 
pubHc-house  for  a  glass  of  some  pernicious  drink,  they 
w^ill  cease  to  get  drunk,  or  at  all  events  will  do  so  much  less 
often.  No  sooner  said  than  done :  half  measures  are  not 
for  wartime.  On  the  day  after  the  proclamation  of  mar- 
tial law,  the  military  authorities  in  France  prohibited  the 
sale  of  absinthe,  and  when  Parliament  met  it  lost  no  time 
in  passing  a  bill  prohibiting  for  ever  the  manufacture, 
sale  and  import  of  absinthe.  A  few  weeks  after  the  out- 
break of  war,  the  Tsar  closed  all  distilleries  and  places 
where  vodka  was  made  or  sold,  vodka  being  in  Russia  a 
state  monopoly.  And  while  it  cannot  of  course  be  said 
that  no  vodka  or  absinthe  is  consumed  in  Russia  and  France 
—  since  evasion  of  the  law  will  continue  as  long  as  the 
world  exists  —  temperance  has  steadily  increased  and  the 
evil  effects  of  drink  have  equally  steadily  decreased. 

Why  w^ere  so  many  years  and  a  cataclysm  like  the 
European  War  necessary  for  the  discovery  and  application 
of  the  remedy?  —  the  only  efficacious  way  of  keeping  the 
intemperance  of  the  people  in  check.  If  the  men  of  two 
or  three  centuries  ago  were  in  certain  respects  much  worse 
off  than  ourselves,  they  were  undoubtedly  also  much  more 
temperate,  simply  because  they  did  not  distil  so  many  kinds 
of  spirits  every  year,  they  did  not  press  so  many  tons  of 


240       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

grapes,  so  that  no  one  person  could  drink  more  than  a 
moderate  amount.  A  few  weahhy  drinkers  might  possibly 
ruin  their  health,  but  such  a  proceeding  was  not  in  the  power 
of  the  poor  and  those  of  moderate  means.  Why  have  men 
taken  to  drink  to  such  an  alarming  extent  during  the  last 
century,  a  period  w^hich  coincides  with  the  dawn  of  the 
era  of  quantity?  Because  the  nineteenth  century  planted 
vines  in  thousands  of  acres  of  hitherto  uncultivated  land, 
even  upon  land  snatched  from  Islam,  even  on  land  beyond 
the  ocean;  because  it  enlarged  and  added  immensely  to  the 
number  of  breweries;  because  it  invented  countless  new  and 
ingenious  ways  of  distilling  alcohol  from  endless  different 
substances;  because  it  manufactured  in  great  distilleries  all 
over  the  w^orld  liquors  of  which  only  a  few  bottles  had 
hitherto  been  made  annually  by  private  families  after  some 
traditional  receipt.  Then  when  it  had  distilled  so  many 
intoxicating  drinks,  modern  industry  had  to  find  some 
means  of  ensuring  their  consumption.  It  is  useless  to  say 
that  all  these  intoxicating  liquors  are  made  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  a  thirsty  world,  that  vice  is  the  cause  and  not 
the  effect  of  the  immense  increase  in  the  wine,  beer  and 
liquor  trades.  No  —  here,  as  elsev.here  —  industry  first 
created  abundance  and  then  persuaded  man  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  consume  its  whole  production. 

It  is  therefore  clear  that  as  long  as  industry  is  free  to 
distil  as  much  intoxicating  liquor  as  it  chooses,  just  as  it 
is  at  liberty  to  weave  as  many  yards  of  linen  or  cloth  as 
it  likes,  alcoholism  will  increase  in  the  world.  The  trade 
will  be  driven  to  manufacture  such  drinks  in  ever  increasing 
quantities  and  the  world  w^ill  have  to  swallow  veritable 
floods  of  beer,  wine  and  spirits  every  year.  The  brewery 
and  the  public-house  will  encourage  men  to  drink  more 
than  they  need  both  night  and  morning,  Sunday  and  week- 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  241 

day,  for  man  is  naturally  inclined  to  excess  in  his  pleasures, 
and,  if  you  make  vice  easy  for  him,  he  will  not  fail  to  take 
advantage  thereof.  Our  age  first  gives  men  full  liberty 
to  drink  to  excess,  and  then  is  amazed  that  they  do  so,  just 
in  the  same  way  as  having  created  the  vastest  armies  history 
has  ever  seen,  and  provided  them  with  the  most  murderous 
weapons,  it  fails  to  understand  how  the  vastest  and  most 
bloody  war  of  all  ages  can  possibly  have  broken  out.  The 
cause  of  its  surprise  is  the  same  in  both  cases.  Our  age 
has  created  the  greatest  armies  of  all  time  not  because  it 
intended  to  bring  about  its  own  ruin  in  a  world  war,  but 
because  no  power,  or  mortal  power,  or  authority  existed 
in  Europe  strong  enough  to  set  a  limit  to  the  competition 
of  armaments.  It  left  vice  full  liberty,  not  from  perv-ersity 
or  corruption,  but  because  in  its  anxiety  to  further  industry 
and  commerce,  it  shrank  from  setting  any  limit  —  even  that 
demanded  by  health,  morals  and  beauty  —  to  the  increase 
of  wealth;  it  furthered  productive  industries  and  at  the 
same  time  encouraged  men  to  consume  as  much  as  they 
could,  to  eat,  drink,  smoke,  amuse  themselves,  wear  out 
and  renew  their  clothing,  travel,  and  seek  for  the  greatest 
available  measure  of  comfort.  But  in  order  to  achieve  all 
this  it  had  to  abolish  the  standards  which  in  past  ages 
distinguished  wise  expenditure  from  extravagance,  and  the 
undue  grow^th  of  desire,  since,  had  these  criteria  been  as 
clear  and  definite  as  they  were  two  centuries  ago,  they  would 
have  set  limits  to  this  liberty  of  expansion  of  which  modern 
industries  are  so  jealous;  and  in  the  same  way  it  has  failed 
to  distinguish  between  the  services  rendered  by  science  and 
industry^  to  peace  and  those  rendered  to  war. 

The  European  War  put  an  immediate  end  to  this  contra- 
diction so  far  as  drink  was  concerned.  It  has  already 
brought  certain  of  the  European  peoples  back  to  the  prin- 


242       EUROPE'S  FATEFUL  HOUR 

ciples  which  ruled  the  world  two  or  three  centuries  ago.  In 
the  face  of  immediate  danger  all  have  had  to  realize  that 
the  State  has  both  the  right  to  prevent  the  people  committing 
suicide  by  excessive  drinking  and  is  bound  to  exercise  that 
right;  that  the  welfare  of  the  race  and  the  interests  of 
public  morals  must  and  should  set  a  limit  to  the  full  liberty 
of  indulging  in  pleasure  to  excess  which  individuals  had 
claimed  as  a  right  for  the  last  century.  Will  Europe  under- 
stand equally  quickly  that  war  ought  not  to  be  —  as  it  is 
in  Europe  today  —  the  savage  explosion  of  all  the  forces 
of  destruction  and  sacrifice,  love  and  hatred,  good  and  evil 
accumulated  by  human  nature  in  the  course  of  a  generation, 
until  the  whole  physical  and  moral  strength  of  a  nation  is 
exhausted  —  something  like  a  natural  force,  subject  to  no 
law?  Will  it  understand  that  war  should  be  a  human 
institution  like  justice,  a  sign  and  symbol  of  the  strength  of 
a  people,  as  true  and  adequate  as  possible  to  what  they 
represent,  but  limited,  if  it  is  not  to  become  a  scourge  of 
God  and  a  means  of  exterminating  victors,  vanquished  and 
neutrals  alike? 

The  future  will  show.  The  obscure,  powerful  will  of  the 
masses  who  are  today  engaged  in  this  titanic  war  will 
decide.  The  essential  thing  today  is  an  act  of  will  —  a 
great  act  of  will  on  the  part  of  the  masses.  During  the 
last  two  centuries  man  has  inverted  the  order  of  things  in 
which  his  fathers  lived  so  long ;  he  has  begun  that  new  and 
marvellous  history  of  the  world,  whose  final  crisis  is  taking 
place  today,  because  he  has  determined  to  have  liberty, 
wealth,  power  and  knowledge.  Our  children  and  grand- 
children will  enjoy  peace  if  they  really  desire  it,  by  en- 
deavouring to  realize  in  what  the  essential  conditions  of  a 
real  and  lasting  peace  consist.  At  this  moment  when  so 
many  men  are  in  arms  keeping  a  watch  on  one  another  with 


THE  GREAT  CONTRADICTION  243 

field  glasses  and  cannon,  by  land  and  water,  it  is  well  to 
repeat  to  the  soldiers  of  the  new  alliance  —  this  time  a  Holy 
Alliance  in  very  truth  —  the  soldiers  of  the  Powers  which 
have  had  to  endure  this  war,  because  the  Central  Empires 
forced  it  upon  them,  the  memorable  words  of  St.  Augustine, 
words  worthy  of  being  taken  as  the  motto  of  the  newer  and 
better  Europe  for  which  we  all  hope,  for  which  so  many 
have  already  given  their  lives :  "  Esto  ergo  hellando 
pacificus,  ut  cos  quos  expugnas,  ad  pads  iitilitateni  vincendo 
perducas." 


THE  END 


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